When you’re torqued
with fear, drift in the woods,
drench your body, breathe
blue smooth air, study sculpted rocks,
clods of iridescent moss,
patches of sun-flecked earth—
eyes or flames twitching.
Tongue the beauty.
~ Found poem composed/modified from words in Lucia Perillo’s poem, “Kilned.”
This captures every sensation I love about being out in nature. Lovely!
Thank you!
I love that last line. Tell me it is yours!