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caleb.eckert's picture

An unfinished, untitled poem-thing in verse form, attempting to explore some feelings/observations having coming back from the Sonoran Desert. Mostly some gestures towards changes I'm noticing in my perceptions of "the natural world" and my site during this snowy spring afternoon. I've included an image from my site sit below as well.



I arrive
by walking.

sometimes I think back to a neat idea—
“Nature can be dangerous”
—but ideas are lifeless without stories.

it’s one thing to think about danger and apocalypse
and another to flee towards shelter
or at least the eye of the storm.

those of us with roofs and dry clothes
and something salty to eat
can spend our time musing about amorality.

meanwhile my footsteps fall to the white blanket
back where cold is a cause for “EXERCISED CAUTION
or at least that’s what the data say.

meanwhile my footsteps fall to the scorched ground
back where the cause of death is usually “UNDETERMINED
or at least that’s what the data say.

in the northeast
leaves shiver on broken branches
while their neighbors glow a dark and sickly green.

in the southwest
people bake in sandy washes
while their neighbors grow a dark and sickly green.

spring snow doesn’t look the same
not when skeletons lie side by side
next to such vivid color.

sopping wet or bone dry
the cold and heat and cholla spines still lodged in my skin tell me:
“nature” kills and those behind the curtain go free.