Poem: Trying to Be Romantic

The students were carefully prepped

“Listen to nature.  Find out what it says to you.

“Romantics see a tree differently than Rationalists.”

We entered the woods via the school trail

sat on the benches and studied Thoreau.

Ah . . . Nature!

Finally I set them off alone to “commune with nature”

Think about life.

See what nature had to offer them as a Romantic.

“The symphony of cicadas and crickets will speak to you,” I said.

The sunlight, trees and insects concurred.

Ah, Nature.

Just then They came.  The 12 year old scientists.

Their teacher hiked them up the very same steps by which we had entered the 

Romantic woods.

But they brought their yellow ribbons labeled with numbers

Tied them on the trees.  Asked questions like,

“What species is that?”  “What do its leaves look like? Its bark?”

The rationalists had arrived.

Ah, nature.

Next came the helicopters thu-thu-thu-ing overhead.

Then the computers accompanied by urgent questions 

on the particulars of “the assignment”

Finally, announcements rang out across the mountainside.

A bell sounded.

Civilization had arrived.

Aw. . .  nature.