As I take a walk amongst the cornstalks,
Flowing flocks of geese drop
Silky soft feathers in the moss
Growing off hemlocks like ancient rocks.
Then water follows feathers in the shallows,
As light filters through leaves in a hollow.
All while the pines gently caress this restless river
Giving endless shivers as the surface shimmers.
Even in winter, overhead, stars are all like glitter,
Literally littering the blackness
As if landing on a black canvass
In the vast, man less place among the planets.
But Civilization is lost in complacent
Making blatant changes in arrangement
a patient tree's fulfilling fragrance
with pavement for a building's placement.
We aren't a savior.
What makes us greater than nature?
We are but a player,
Not the play maker.
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