A Poem is Planted with Word Play

A lot of poems begin with the echo of a few words in close proximity to each other, coaxing each other into a relationship of meaning and sound.

Like these:

The pre-rain air
is heavy laden

with a dank
moist
mist. 

The lingering aroma
of nightcrawlers
and red-shale dirt
rises
among the green
gold banks
of the Delaware
basin as the sun
begins its setting.

This poem started like this,
but ended like this below:

The Pre-Rain Air

The pre-rain air

is heavy-laden

with a dank

moist

mist.

The lingering aroma

of nightcrawlers

and red-shale dirt

rises

among the green

gold banks

of the Delaware

River basin

as the sun

begins its

slow move toward

its setting.

It is no stretch

to close my nose

and smell the

spilled liquid deet

puddled in the

bottom of

our green metal

tackle box –

from

when

I was eight.

The deet

wafting up

and mixing with

the aroma of

nightcrawlers and

shale and murky

waters of the

Churchville Reservoir.

As then,

so now.