Too poor to pay,
Too rich to quit.
– Velvet (“Gunsight Ridge”, 1957)
We tread water in a river of time,
run a ranch, raise cows, write
poetry in the gloaming, you and I—
without the weight of currency
to hold us under, hold us apart.
This evening of light draws the wild
from shady burrows and perches
to perform, to exalt the sky, to dance
with winged grace we emulate—
a brush of words to mark our passing.