Doe - 1/25/2023

Leaping, bounding

Nothing sounding

I’ve grown fond of your spaces.

Questions, pond’ring

Yonder, maund’ring

What are these empty places?

As I once saw

Those who did draw

The ones who left these traces.

In numbers rate

Their presence great

All vanished in few paces

Lived and they died

Loved and they cried

Yet most weren’t too abrasive

And then with time

I came to mine

And leapt your roads of laces

~

Onward, your shrines

Insects and vines

Made home of yours, now emptied

Long before me

And those I see

Between the cracks lie fruit seeds

They’ll give in drove

To stag, to doe

From once they blossom to trees

I foresee time

Where life, sublime

Need not in these lands must tease

Instead they’ll pace

Over the face

Our home of green concrete seas

And further bend

Pillars descend

Now then, only hills you’ll see

~

I will not gleam

Those pastures green

Adorned with your great towers

Where we and they

Can we all stay

And shelter from the showers

I must remain

My time the same

By my own days, years, and hours

Count them or not

There’s not the thought

When all I need is flowers

I search, I find

Repeat, rewind

I recall memories sour

As it is true

Not only you

Can live and thrive and dower

~

Around the edge

Where all steps pledge

Acceptance of all risk true

Of life, of death

Retreat, loose breath

And could cease all that is you

Walk that fine line

I am resigned

Paying your old world its dues

By treading past

Never too fast

To admire all of your views

Then comes that tread

Where calm, from dread

Welcome me back to the hues

My home of green

You’ve always seen

Never once noticed abused