A Small Patch Of Green Poem by Sandy Wood

I am a creature of the city:
The sound of traffic
People moving
from where they were
To where they are going.

A rising smell of yeast from the bakery
Or a waft of grease from a burger joint
Almost overheard conversations as I pass
Makes me know I'm part of the many.

But when the gathering has left me parched
exhausted from the hustle
I long for... I am drawn to
The cradle of solitude.

The sense of distance and space
Birds mimicking each other's songs
The crack of twigs and acorns underfoot
The jolt of some unrecognizable decay;

I need to see patches of green
Carpeting the ground
Filling the spaces in the trees
Bracing a wild lantana.

I need that deafening sound of nothing.
So quiet I can hear my heart recalibrating.