Nature As I Taste It

I bottle nature,
its colors, chaos,
patterns, scents,
moments kept alive
by the strange machine inside me—
I release them,
a ribbon of words,
segmented stream
with sinkholes, flumes.
Light and thought
undulate with the current.
Ideas cascade
down the page
in a language not nature’s,
bring life to slate,
sapling to wasteland,
channeled chaos,
explosion of words
I sculpt to portray not a thing,
but a taste.

These are a couple of poems I’ve pulled from an old document on my computer. No use letting them gather dust! 

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