Harbour Day Weekend
Peter R.T. James
The forest is dying all around me
She is nothing
Countless wasps around here
The sun on high
The heat soils my soul
A blowing wind supplies confusion
The noise grows steadily
Mars scream
Until I cannot think
The balance shifts here
Until I start to think
Venus whispers
The quiet glows steadily
A calm breeze provides clarity
The cool cleans my soul
The full moon on high
No wasps at all now
She is everything
The forest is living all around me
Copyright © Peter R.T. James
All Rights Reserved
Notes
A hot summer camping trip in Ontario, one of the last before moving to Arizona.
Deep in the sensual experience of unbuttoning nature for examination.
This poem is symmetrical, with each line reflecting its locational counterpart.
For example, the first and last lines are opposite sides of the same thought.
“The balance shifts here” is the fulcrum, the center pivot when things change from negative to positive.
The two images are also reflective, the second having the path lit up where before it was dark, and other details.
I tend to get bored quickly and enjoy exercises like this when creating.
Messing with simplicity and adding layers of complexity enhances my own perspective of the experience.