After a long stretch
in the state penitentiary
and seven years of sobriety
he was pedaling home
from his AA group in a hard rain.
His bike his only transportation.
He swerved violently
to avoid every sidewalk swimming worm
trying to escape its flooded dungeon.
He loved nature like crazy.
Each missed worm was a relief,
an amendment to his constitution.
When he walked in the woods,
communed with the trees,
he felt safe but the
deciduous conifers confused him.
He saw the brown needles
on the evergreens and was worried.
Were they dying or, did they just
have their own eccentric way to do winter?
He grieved the passing of daylight savings time.
He would go out to the too-quick-to-come dusk
and moan quietly until the sunset silenced him.
But he didn’t drink.
This one goes out to all those who are nature lovers and those in 12-step programs. Thanks for taking the time to listen to this poem. If you like it, give it a heart and share it with a friend. You can use the button to send a link to someone.
