Return to Nature
By Jacob Senghas
A million pleasantries, like fog, spill forth.
I understand, but still my sight, obscured.
So, blurry lines divide the price from worth;
My inability to think, ensured.
“I’m standing where modernity recedes,
The traffic fading out to distant waves,
The beauty of this woodland grove impedes
My will to act as one who just behaves.”
I squint my mind with everything I’ve got
Pretending I’m not in a parking lot.