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Back to Nature
I don't hear the bird songs anymore, above the drone of tires on pavement And the smog chokes out the summer sky hiding the nimbus' movements And barely a tree can anyone see
through the billboard lies and apartments
If it were left up to me, I'd gladly agree to a fishing hole and a pup tent
A cabin of logs and the smell of wild hog being fried on an old wood stove Drop everything I had in the street and make a beeline for the pine grove No more cubicle walls or office halls, no more computer or calculator
I'm trading it all for my log cabin walls, I'm going back to nature
poem
by
Byron Bozeman
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