A Woodscape Connecting Two Towns
The rain-lashed whiz of traffic through the pines
kills the illusion of back roads.
I kick aside a can
lying with other mementos of a foraging grown too easy,
and skirt the duck pond remembered from childhood,
laced now with plastic bags and no birds.
Once this forest possessed latent magic
ready to bloom at the ring of an impassioned thought.
The drowsy vanilla-smell of old-growth bark
was as worthy a backdrop for hidden kingdoms
as for the scolding jays.
Skinks and salamanders,
wriggling under mossy fallen logs,
were treasures for the taking and returning.
Their capture crowned a day –
called for root-beer popsicle celebrations
and dusk-recountings to the squeamish-fingered.
An essence of freedom
went out with the trees removed for the freeway.
I stand amid remnants
tamed and razed,
in the letup of downpour,
with the sunset a dim red stain
on the apathy of mind and sky,
that progress should be an unbalanced equation.
About Lark Beltran
Lark Beltran lives in Peru with her husband, where she is an ESL teacher. Her poems have appeared in many print and online journals such as Penwood Review, Strange Horizons, Ancient Paths, Miller´s Pond, Bolts of Silk, Lacuna, Lucid Rhythms, Linnet´s Wings, The Road Not Taken, Copperfield Review, The View From Here, Ascent Aspirations, Farsight, Ygdrasil, and GotPoetry anthology.