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Oct 2021
Eastern Standard Time abuzz auld Durin
(ya know whit I'm Tolkien about
Elder days long regarding) Autumnal thrum –

The perfect balm to avoid feeling glum
supine upon greensward
I (a doubting Thomas) hanker
to take front row cat bird seat
divine myriad biota amidst heavenly Lily of the valley
(Convallaria majalis), he didst imaginatively greet
Edenic heavenly terra incognita immeasurably sweet
nature's ensemble proffering
Gaia's quintessential orchestration
resplendent sensational visual unadulterated trick
and the best Halloween treat.

Natural splendour regaling this fellow wayfarer
happenstance gifted autochthonous peoples
espied proud specimens unobtrusive
planted armada, viz sleek bodies fleet,
of foot while me accidentally
risking, schlepping, traipsing... offbeat
winessed unschooled tribe,
yet verily synchronized, primed, muscled... athlete
their soundless rhythmic swiftly tailored
flit to and fro upon poetic unshod calloused feet

carefully, gingerly, lightly...
I shod dully tread nsync drumlins upbeat
mouthing, kneading, imbibing... glorious
ebullient choral unadulterated feat
extemporaneously kickstarting crisp and neat
pow hour full rhythm across
analogous macroscopic excellent spreadsheet
inducing their sonorous symphonic
roundelay unfamiliar tweet,
whereby flora and fauna future meal to eat

oblivious regarding mine seat
dated existence, which quiescent aesthete,
yours truly basked, froliced, luxuriated... complete
as once innocent hymnals kindled atrocity
this observer, spectator aghast white as sheet,
how civilization's machinations didst deplete
terrestrial firmament within one fell stroke
eradicated once pristine unbroken
promises chiseled to cheat
rightful owners expansive swath
over yonder til ocean and land did meet.

Europeans scoured seas one after another
lumbering bulwarked fleet
exhausting resources while simultaneous
mowing down aborigines
grotesquely analogous harvesting wheat
indiscriminate deliberate genocide
decimating indigenous tribes beat
defenseless against microbial
weapons of mass destruction,
thus only within third blind eye

courtesy invisible paleface with tenderfeet
strictly envisioned Perkiomen Valley
once abundantly populated
with ample game during cold and/or heat
paradise unbroken stretched hinterland,
where place names mock to pay hollow tribute,
where native peoples no longer replete
vinyl city amidst amidst graveyard
lovely bones turned to dust
paved over by Mainstreet.
Written by
matthew scott harris  64/M/schwenksville, penna
(64/M/schwenksville, penna)   
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