I seem to be slipping from the real world <br />the world of making money and paying bills <br /> <br />I've grown uncomfortable with the ritual <br />of going to and fro <br /> <br />unmindful of the journey <br />the play of grasses in the wind <br /> <br />I seem to want the solitude <br />the earth upon my hands <br /> <br />the stillness of the water <br />the quiet of the night <br /> <br />I seem to be maturing <br />a fruit ripening on the vine. <br /> <br /> <br />(Previously published in Pulse Magazine, Oct. '99; featured in American Studies 210, Campus Ecology, at St. Olaf College, MN)<br /><br />Laurence Overmire<br /><br />http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/real-world/
