If all had been gay…
the only straight arrow.
Would the vision from a speculative tunnel…
Be so narrow?
Had the redness to my skin…
Waned and filled with woes.
A plastered surface illuminating…only white.
Had I burned in the noon day sun.
Could our impoverished hands…
Hold together, as one?
As I, stalk nature.
retrieve what she gives.
With all the mushrooms that shed.
Feather duster ferns that sweep the organic carpet.
Songbirds in the distance.
Lonesome and desperate.
I lack the insight into what appears as, obvious.
And inability to grasp…
Acceptance to the nature of things…
A well tuned chorus.