NATURE Poem: Irvine Lodge Rest Area, by Nick Vasquez

Upon the silent spruce-swept land
The sweet scent pine falls soft and gray,
The moss hangs on every tanoak strand
Like some lost stream from yesterday.

The sweet scent pine falls soft and gray,
Upon the umber forest floor,
Like some lost stream from yesterday,
Silence falls upon the moors.

Upon the umber forest floor
Gravel gleams and glimmers ghostly white,
Silence falls upon the moors
Lost in my heart’s revolving flight.

Gravel gleams and glimmers ghostly white,
The trails come and slowly fade away,
Lost in your heart’s revolving flight,
Like walking through a lover’s lay.

They shift and slowly fade away,
Pac Bell blue rusted in red mud wanes,
Walking through a lover’s lay
Whose dreams we never dream again.

Pac Bell blue rusted in red mud wanes
Your heart that drifts from gravel to trail,
Like dreams we never dream again,
And lovers, with their final quarter, wail.

My heart that drifts from gravel to trail,
Calls timber to a dark unknown,
And lovers, with their final quarter, wail
In search of some protected zone.

In search of some protected zone,
Upon the silent spruce-swept land,
Calls timber to a dark unknown,
Where moss hangs on every tanoak strand
And sweet scent pine falls soft and gray,
Like some lost stream from yesterday.