in the hand of woods

i'm

spoiled by these woods,

the large

green hand

of trees,

that blue

sleeve

of stream.

by the absence

of cars

passing through.

not a neon

sign to be

seen.

i'm

unjealous

of the house on the hill,

the mansion

with a gate.

the penthouse

on the roof.

no,

this is good, good enough

for me.

an oasis

to escape.