POEM: Walnut Spring

Walnut Spring

it’s a black gravel path
      through a lovely wood
why does it remind me
      of an oil spill?
could be the sound of a plane
      overhead or
the distant artificial surf
      of the interstate
even what we try to protect
      we end up destroying
we can’t preserve an island of forest
      in an ocean of asphalt
perhaps what’s needed at first
      is more destruction
fewer cute wooden bridges over
      barely flowing streams
more horizons lit by the fires
      of burning cities
one acre of wetland can store
      a million gallons of water
how many bottles is that?

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Jason Crane
23 October 2019
State College PA

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