Unlearning the Forest

BEACON OF DARKNESS
       (inspired by the thoughts of Michael Ceraolo)
—Caschwa, Sacramento, CA
 
Poetry has the
Acoustical properties
Of music:
Onset, duration, release

With that sharp rock in my pocket
I set out onto the forest floor
Shaded by the canopy
To explore its mysteries

First I make the mistake
Of trying to conform
Unknown perceptions
To easy conventions

Is that a leaf blown by breeze
Or is it some kind of animal?
Or maybe the only thing moving
Are my vitreous floaters

I look upward and expect my gaze
To be met with all sorts of
Flora and fauna having sex
I get bird poop instead

Satire requires more brains
Than birds are known to have
So I didn’t take that personally
Just kept walking

Now trying to unlearn
All those “facts”
About the forest
That clouded my brain

I reach for that rock
In my pocket
Now a gaping hole
Someone else will find it

And create good, original
Forest poetry
That I will read and know
As déjà vu

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