We have come too old for wishing wells,
too long in tooth to wait for sympathetic gods
to ease our minds and hearts, too impatient now
to endure their juried verdict that is still the only law
where coyotes lope looking over their shoulders—
where time and gravity never sleep and wear
their work clothes everyday. Yet there are places
to hang a dream, become small and overwhelmed
with awe, weightless moments that shroud all things
for awhile. Save and savor them. Man’s progress
cannot break away from conventional currencies,
cannot shed its shackles to stockholders, cannot
rest until we consume and commercialize
every secret hide-a-way. You are on your own
to learn to float and soar like hawks in spring.
drycrikjournal 