He didn’t know how much
he missed serenity
until about a year into
this federal administration.

He finds himself yearning for
nature — trees, bushes,
flowers, ponds, waterfalls,
fox, bear, deer, snakes.

He yearns for a jog in the woods,
along the trails, by the lake.

He jogs, he stops, lifts his head
from staring at the trail, watches
the sun shimmer on the lake, inhales
evergreen, breathes deeply,
feels the breeze out the west
crossing the Big Lake,
listens to squirrels scampering,
birds singing. He watches the rings
on the water caused by fish rising
to the surface.

He starts to jog again. He climbs the
sand dune; he cautiously descends,
hiking sticks giving him four
legs.

He is one of the woodland animals.