We might as well be rare birds
occupied off the road, a dwindling species
keeping to itself as the world speeds by.

Behind the wheel, that great invention,
it has all it needs now to save time
on the other end of its destination.

Pickup loads of toys stream upcanyon,
primal music thumping all the way
to places we don’t want to go after

watching the troops retreat at dusk,
limping home. It must be like a war
up there in the mud and snow.

We work around the fire, a fine discovery,
pulling irons and calves together,
stirring coals, retelling stories after

while the meat cooks, before we forget
our place in these mountains that
have shaped characters and rare birds.

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in: Logo

You are commenting using your account. Log Out /  Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )

Connecting to %s

This site uses Akismet to reduce spam. Learn how your comment data is processed.