This poem was written in a botanical garden in Ghana, West Africa. The challenge from a friend was to use the phrase “spitting on emptiness” in the poem.
I linger in green places.
I shuffle my feet on wet earth,
the cirrus are a heavy grey with rain and emotion
dampness in thick air twilight’s colors awaken me
I drink flower purple and eat rubber tree latex
I sway in nature’s gripping
and smug, as if spitting on emptiness
I splash barefoot in mud puddles
dance to cricket song
and leaves breathe.
My wooden cup is full