Sunday, October 17, 2010

Remember this

the softness of the forest floor
caressing your feet with
each step, the rustle
of leaves falling through the
trees decorating the trail
in yellows, reds and oranges.
remember the sun warming
your face, the wind at your back,
the swaths of grass brushing
against your legs, remember
the boulders, the walls of rock.
remember all this when you
are surrounded by sheetrock
and glass, where there is no
softness or color, nor caresses
for your soul.  


frizatch said...

Your blog should have a "Like" button. I'd click it for this poem.

Anonymous said...

There are no straight lines in nature...

Genevieve said...

Thanks, Di. ; )