Jake A. Poet Free verse

Seclusion

The air is smoother out amongst the trees
and quickly one can lose the scent of fuel,
arrogance and complicated life; the
rustling leaves as wind so softly swept on 
the hills, and hosts of animals and seas 
can fill the most exhausted ears of mine.

As slow as crawling, vicous, leering time
I tread so lightly; further, forever
towards the streaks of red and maze, the others
I dare to imagine are past my skill
to write. I walked the way they did, a sign 
of loss in forming words the way they spoke.

For all I said and did I stayed as broke
as days of past; but nothing could replace
The woods I stand in now, I feel the dirt
in trembling hands, I dare to look behind
and see a dense and rising cloud of smoke.
Yet i think I hear the rivers ending.

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