Extraordinary Escapism Poem by T F Rice

Today I sit at my
ordinary office desk
but
I take my blanket
into the Pennsylvania
mountain wilderness,
laying my blanket in the
place where last season
we found coyote bones
scattered
over pine needles
seasoning the earth.
An aching back
makes imprints in the
soft ground;
my brown eyes become
blue under am
immaculate sky,
broken only by
towering pine branches
crossing each other
like hands clasped,
arms intertwined.
This
is my final silence.