Beyond the bitter coffee
and exhausting stream of cars,
reek of motor oil and gasoline, rough
scrape of concrete and metal, rushing
roads, their thrumming heartbeat-
drone roaring—
I enter the forest where calming
grasses stretch to brush against my legs,
where maple and buckeye dance
to the wind’s whistling tune,
where I smell the sap of life
and find childlike dreams of mud pies,
where green covers earth with hints
of violet and yellow and insects speed by
through a vale of leaves and branches,
where silence is more than that—
where it can live
with bird calls and bug buzz
and the whispering of trees,
where footfalls meet deadfalls,
there, there,
is where I long to place my palace,
there within the silence—
where I can breathe.
Creative Writing Class