Spiked Peaks Poem by D.P. Lukich

Nature's beauty is visible at this vantage,
with evergreen porcupines climbing the mountainside,
and sparrows chirping tunes,
sweet as Sinatra,
Though it's all contrasted,
heavily,
very heavily,
by father's emanating snuff stench.

He speaks of the epitome of insignifigance,
my teeth clench,
yet relax as pine hits my nose,
it's nature's rose

Now we turn,
relaxation spurned,
and walk to the 'gift' shop,
for a fast break.

But in the middle,
past the trees,
yet in between,
the dew grass is the gateway,
from beauty to monotony.

All this pondered on unmoving,
sturdy asphalt,
is the monotony our fault?