Babble On Poem by Charlie Parant

hidden deep in the forest
past damp, dark green ferns
a seat poses as a moss covered log
I sit
far enough away from people,
traffic or sounds of civilization
to soothe my nerves
and allow me to quietly reflect
with only the babble of the brook
as a peaceful background noise
until the brook started to babble on
about what I was doing sitting there.
And didn’t I have things I should be doing?
Where were you last night?
Who was the girl?
Why aren’t you at work?
Have you been drinking?
Where are your shoes?