nature poems

I am not too well, he felt.
The flames chased him in charred landscape.
Fighting over, he pondered about the
crime within, the surge to find a nest hole.
A wounded pride where the salmonella hits.
You enter a slot for more enticements.
Any patch of vague tragedy among the barren
desirability, shares the accident with sacrifice.
Unhappy, you reverse the mode of retrieving
against the terms of swimming alone.
Where was the death’s arc to capture
the mistakes of life? Was an archaism
sufficient to kill the untruth? No implant
will enhance the height of achievement.

More at http://www.anmolbol.com/poems.

The day is at once at tandem
with tepid sun, winter’s discomfiture, or feature.
Outside the room music
blares, Christmas is near
children squabble, then singing. Sighs, life takes
historical movement, years
lapse and then these visuals.
The town hasn’t changed much except for the number of boisterous cars, and pedestrians manipulating ways, hands up to code a message, please let me go to the other side. The trees silently stare at the church across, shadowy, languid movements. It is dusk.
Hands up. Let me go over to the other side, where I live, where I can breathe.