I see The hood of a clean tractor.
I hear The diesel engine purring
I smell Fresh cut grass.
I taste Mint flavored gum.
I grip The steering wheel.
I feel The mower deck shaking my brains out.
I wonder How much fuel I have left?
I wish School Did not exist.
I hope I don’t fail 7th grade.
I Like mowing.
I see trees. Nature. The living. And the dead.
I hear the sounds of life. But the most important is music.
I smell spring air. The freshness.
I taste nothing.
I touch the materials I have been given. A paper, and a pen.
I feel as though I am stuck.
I wonder about too many things. I am always thinking.
I wish for someone to fix the world.
I hope for nothing because I am grateful.
I am not a poet. I am a girl.
Up a Tree
I see the ground below me, browny-orange from the littered pine needles, it is dotted with lavender from the abundance of heather growing
I hear the sound of many birds in chorus, giving me a consort. Trees brush against each other in dainty waltz to the music of the birds
I smell the deep perfume of pine, and a sweet, innocent scent from the violets nearby
I taste the sun’s warm rays, sweet like candy.
I touch the sticky richness of sap secreting from my favorite tree
I feel the tree sway from the wind. It’s so relaxing
I wonder how much magic it would take to turn me into a bird, so I could fly to the rooftops of circleville that I see from up here.
I wish this tree went up forever, so I could climb high and away from my problems on the ground
I hope that everyone has a favorite tree that will help them with their problems, something to to hide in
I am in my favorite tree