R i v e r W a l k

I am chasing
the last ray of the sun.

How will i catch up
if i must smell every wild rose?
if i stop to admire the young fern
growing from this rock face?
If the greens of the forest floor
capture my gaze at each step:
behind kelly
over hunter,
chartruese against raw siena?

And what is this? Canteloupe bursting among a bobbing sea of emeralds?!

It is no use trying.
I am overwhelmed.
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