The Absence of Nature
I walked outside to water my garden, wanting
something beautiful to admire. I found nothing,
save the broad, infertile
leaves of my plumeria trees and ants swarming
the dry potting soil. Refusing to blow
the scent of hibiscus nectar, the harsh wind
bent low the tender basil shoots.
I amble through my neighborhood, looking
for a bird that fits in the palm of my hand.
Cars fly past me. The townhomes clustered
together leave no room for trees and
obstruct my view of the ocean.
My mind wanders to a place where
flowers float down to brush
against supple grass. Ducks stir the water
with their feathers. Crickets chirp
at dusk. Birch, maple, and oak hide away
this patch of nature in the middle of suburbia.
Screeching tires halt my reverie,
dragging me back into the present.
Across the road, a bougainvillea stalk
forces through a sidewalk crack.
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