Clouds Go By
A small creek led me along, not filled with insects but
floating folledge from the last time it rained.
Water fell often in the fall, conditioning Father Frost who would crank
arthritis and sore joints to the point of becoming a statue in life. The fall animals peeked at me and then
sounded alarms throughout the humbled forest.
The birds cawed to each other, wondering if I had more to give than an old
smart phone to take pictures with that day.
No such luck. I
couldn’t capture them either. They flew away, a burst from each tree, ready to
find the next oddity to document. The
trees shook and leaves fell down, a new layer upon the old ones. Sometimes the
creek took a turn to the mud and rocks left exposed. I stumbled a few times but
didn’t hit any rocks.
Many city people don’t know how to deal in the country,
how you have to learn Nature’s language and respect that which is and which will.
I found my laying rock down further, debating if I should
let myself slide on and down the mess of leaves. I told myself, “no,” as it would disturb the
tune of the woods. I cut sideways down and lowered myself down the drop off
with careful steps.
Placing my small carrying bag next to me, I sat down and
then stretched on the rock. My sites went to the clouds above me, day’s constellations
morphing under a crisp blue background.
When I began the hike, the gray clouds covered heaven’s domain. Nothing
lasts forever, and the prized azure atmosphere made its way into poetry. I sighed,
breathing fresh air into my stretching lungs.
My eyes turned to the cloud that looked like a spaceship,
a blimp from another planet to teach men about peace on Earth. I sighed.
The lessons of humanity never seemed to sink in when we all tried to bow
to higher notions. Seeing aliens and
angels, listening to the great Oz, we foolourselves.
Save us.
I put my hand into damp clay and rocks, pulling up what
would gross others out. I molded the soft
flesh into the shape of a fish and put it into a stream and watched it desegrated
back into basic parts. I cleaned myself,
splashing and escaping more dirt and clay and rotting leaves.
When I stood up, I heard a plop beside me, I glanced down
and saw my phone dive into a puddle, my face reflected above the black and red
shapes.
Now I am all alone or at home.
