I often forget

Sitting on the dock thinking of Maya Angelo. Still I rise an anthem in my soul.

I look up and see a seabird, beak proud, wings claiming the space around her.

I feel a fierce affinity with her as I observe her keen eyes.

I forget every time I’m away. Nature is in me and

I am in nature.

It’s easy to forget in a jungle of synthetic twigs and string.

If I lived in a nest like a bird, perhaps I would never again forget.