Category: Nature Poetry

I.

Chilly wind.
The XH bus passes,
and over Chelten Ave
the clouds roll in their bed
on the verge of crying.

II.

A few minutes have passed.
Still that same cold air,
but sunlight peeks behind grey layers,
smiling.

Early morning—building creaking, alarm
in hallway, broken, going off.
Winter whispers through a slice of unclosing
window and goosebumps respond to its call.
Cars honk, angry men honk louder,
voices rumble and blend together,
an ambiance that says “alive.”
Morning has arrived,
though some are no longer here to greet it,
some have faded with the prior night—
it’s all bullet shells and rockets blazing,
fangs tearing and beaks breaking;
it’s all an ecstasy of perfumed sighs,
a veiny gripping explosion of cries.
Moons go down and ignite horizons
all over the great body,
while buses nearby trace it
like geese in the distance.
The body stretches, creaks, and yawns.

Sometimes, I close my eyes and imagine

the breeze
taking it

all

from me,
leaving purity

like sunlight on the surface of a river.

This very breath

             is the life that births leaves.

            These very leaves in evening breeze

is life that fills me.