Is it possible to write non-cheesy nature poetry?

Reflection

Tiny birds flit like moths across the surface, skimming over mirror-trees bouncing and bobbing in a breeze which ripples the quiet still of the lake...

hold myself open, don't run.
breathe like a tree.

Then walk back to camp, with brilliant columns of light that stab through the gloom of the canopy, oblivious to the friends singing your name - you missed the soccer game.