Author Information
Our Presence Destroyed
Walking, I hear the soft rustle of leaves beneath my feet
Feel my feet sink slightly into the moist earth
Feel the tickle of wind against my cheek
Feel my hair rearranging itself to the breeze
See the blazing color of autumn's peak
Hear the sounds of animals readying themselves
For winter which is tuning its strings
I think of nature's permanence
We make a mark on this earth but for a moment
Our tracks cover ourselves
As soon as they are made
The leaves recover quickly from our trampling
Our presence destroyed, we walk away
