I Miss the Green

I miss the green,
the winding roads,
the seashore,
and the forest.

I miss the morning fog,
the mystery,
the wild flowers,
and the ferns.

I miss the drip drip drip of raindrops,
the moss and lichen,
but most of all I miss
those morning walks
when the air is fresh
and soaked with mist.

I miss my muffled footsteps
on the damp and sometimes sodden ground.
I miss the tap tap tap of unseen woodpeckers
and the distant cry of seagulls.
I knew every tree and bush,
every leaf disintegrating on the path.
I miss my hideaways …
I had several
where I'd sit and meditate,
compose, and sketch,
and find my center.

My life now is all straight lines,
intense dry heat,
thorny cactai,
scorpions and rattlers.
There's beauty here, I know that,
but compared to what I left --
the answer is, I'm homesick

Vi
©June 1, 2005