I wandered over the quiet green swaying
grass of hillside, along fence lines with
rusted wire, tiny spikes waiting to bite me
over crawdad front doors, dirt mounded up
around the holes.
I wandered over fallen leaves, brown, russet
golden, burgundy, masses humid and sticky
underfoot, slippery covering soft muddy ground
under the canopy of oaks, poplars, maples, and elms.
I wandered over bogs and muck straining to pick
cat tails atop dry stalks, dull brown seed pods
eyes rattling in their sockets
green veined lily pads facing heaven,
floating on watery beds umbilical cords
descending into darkness.
I am no longer there but I am still wandering,
reveling in what once was.