Grover

DEMDC Riverwood

Around the bend

Through glade and glen
And o’er green grass
The soft sun of early Spring
Rarifies the vernal air.

Where am I
If not here?
Alone, in these woods,
To bear witness to this Beauty.

And yet, at this natural pace,
The mind still races.
A Desire to capture and record and remember,
An attempt to freeze a fluid experience.

And so why write, when I can breathe?
Why read, when I can listen?
Why wonder, when I can wander
In these groves?

One thought on “Grover

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