You must look closely
from the corners of your eyes
to read wild minds
unsure of who you are
and why you stopped.
Do not stare,
do not let fear take hold.
Relax. Do not wait
too long to speak.
Make your voice a song.
Under the gooseneck,
Cottontail, Ground Squirrel
and Quail share summer shade,
play cards and gossip
about the sunshine.
Flycatchers ride the ridges
of cattle backs
like a high Sierra
pack string
this side of the sunset.
God has already been here—
no bad guys,
no guilty parties
making a living
before you came along.
drycrikjournal 