nature not yet writes

 my chalkboard, and nature

I have a chalkboard in my classroom,

the blank green painted rectangle

draws kids to pick up chalk and express themselves,

I am now in my beloved Smokies,

I am not yet seeing where I am for its reality,

so far it is a blank slate

upon which my thoughts dance,

I hope the morning shocks me back into seeing

the lessons and the beauty of what is before me,

that now, here, with its own past and future,

and not the past and future of my own life

that is still so with me this evening.

by Henry H. Walker

September 30, ‘21