A Year of Bad Poetry

The emerald tides smash and recoil;
the rumbling giant glides smoothly through the retreating water.
 
Immense forests crowd each other;
jostling to dip their toes in the frigid waters.
Crystal skies enfold them and hold their outstretched arms.
Nurturing them with its breath of life.
 
Soaring on invisible streams,
blurs of grey and white cackle and squawk,
begging for morsels of crusty bread.
Like the many homeless people,
their cries fall on deaf ears.
 
The vast beauty slips by slowly,
never changing in its anonymity.
The landscape is dotted with signs of civilization;
blemishes on its perfect face.
 
I am a stranger in a strange land,
yet I finally understand my place.

-DJ Nezz