Savour

And I said I would savour every second
Thick fingers tracing, gripping
Rock, delicate, contours worn
By rivulets, rain and ruin

Breathing deeply with every
Gasp, gulping down fresh air
Thick with opportunity and possibility
Warm, tickling the lungs

Every crisp, fresh, green
Blade of artificially watered
Grass, drenched by mechanical means
Man’s interference in his environment

Holding tight to the rail and peering
Down into crystal clear manmade streams
Walking manmade paths
Watching manmade nature

Or the imitation of it
The distillation of hope
Stale and coated with fresh gloss
And the fumes can’t be masked

You can build a palace in the desert
You can make an island in the ocean
You can plant a dozen fake forests
But you can’t…

I guess you can
Who will stop you?

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