It is easy to sit yourself down and
write about nature, because it is
simple, but it is beautiful.

Harder to explicate the spiral
your mind takes nightly.
I no longer try to explain it.

But still, I sit still, and
I remember. I don’t want to,
but I do and so I do:

Rushing waters break even in front and smile.
Black sky, bursting light, I capture a maudlin moment.
You say you love me.

Restless black hair, tears of the mind swim
around. Vows are made to be broken I think
when they are broken.

— My mind falls in upon itself.
Trying to think and recall and understand
and make sense. Nature must prevail.

I saw a crane the other day.
Skating at Tucker Creek,
a biker stopped, so I did, too.

The water flowed like a poem
and the crane stood against
the rush like the writer.

It was a nice sight.
A week later I cried, as I do every Friday.
The next day, I gave in.