The fields still stand
below the power plants that got me my car
and the little green gods still
live in the smoke that rises from its chimney;
the mountains stand, their
bellies cut to tunnels for us to connect
and the little river still breathes
through the gutter, I passed yesterday.
Just yesterday I stood on the mountain top
watching the sun set slow
the mist and the pine were all around the scape
the clouds seemed like a sea down in the valley.
The pine forest has overgrown its size
the mist and the clouds and the sun still play
however, I see myself dying
slowly leaving all I thought was mine - away.
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