When we arrive home, the forest is inviting:
It doesn’t resist that we love to go venturing.
I wish we could relocate it to northern regions,
For I’ve come to love it through every season.
The singing chorus of evening crickets –
Bullfrog river/goose-reservoired thickets.
Ravens that honk as they fly over the land;
Pines dropping cones, wherever we’d stand.
Satellites zooming across Milkyway heights:
Bright constellations track heavens at night.
Am I just a fool for wanting/needing to leave?
But if stay here, I stagnate – no longer achieve.
Candid Corvid Productions 