Their story and mine.

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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