thoughts on nature

I really remember sunlight so thick
that you could drink it like wine,
pouring golden through thick leaves,
the sun up there like a mango,
just leaving me to my warmth and thoughts and tragic writings.

Somedays in winter
I got bitter
about the cold
that froze my joints into brass knobs,
but I always loved spring
when I was waiting to find jokes
and not in books
but amid the lifting depression
of life's cycle.

All this would be fine
but we still have
government buildings that use linoleum
(you can always tell if a place is wretched
by looking to see
if there is linoleum at all).
And because of being at the bottom
of it all
I would be lying
if I said that I liked bicycles anymore
but mostly because of how ugly they look
when they cost more than the lowly hundred dollar ones
and what more
with bored cyclists jazzing up hills with cameras on their heads,
in terms of that
I have really had enough.

There were sketches
that couldn't control the seasons
but only those thick and thin lines
of more off putting buildings
because Nature never used a straight line
unless it was a Beautiful Accident.