of this dirt
we burrow deeper into our shells
waiting for a rain.
of this dirt
we burrow deeper into our shells
waiting for a rain.
This site uses Akismet to reduce spam. Learn how your comment data is processed.
NATIVE HARMONIES: ranch poems






Have a WordPress.com account? Log in now.

Nice! Love the idea of burrow-shells. 🙂
LikeLiked by 1 person
Me, too! Thanks.
LikeLike
First they took our rivers and gave us steel; then they took our mountains and gave us coal; then they took our air and gave us drought . . . Damn them . . .
LikeLike
Amen Peter. Sadly we have to admit that as consumers we are part of “them”.
Love that little owl who is becoming quick a pal.
LikeLike
Yes, Richard, he’s getting to be about half-dependable in his spot along the road and less camera shy. I keep thinking I’ll catch him among friends. But maybe he’s all that’s left of the colony, as the hawks and eagles have scoured the area of squirrels, and taken big birds like herons, egrets and Red Tails.
LikeLike