Dear Dad, you never saw a drought like this,
four years running, so few cows left on the ranch—
nor I a war like yours: bait for Nazis in the Bulge.
The world has changed, the planet ever-changing:
ice caps melt, oceans rise, seasons out-of-sync
with what we know. New ground to graze
now that I am old. Nothing in the mountains
for bears to eat, they roll down ridges, track
dusty roads on the scent of fresh placentas,
lion pads everywhere you go. We cannot leave
this canyon, these calves, alone—all living
off this piece of ground that we are so bound.
drycrikjournal 
A great letter ‘home’, John! Our fathers would never have imagined this world would have turned out as it has . . . Of course their father would have never believed the things their sons had to do in their lives either . . . You are a very gifted writer . . .
LikeLiked by 1 person
Thank you, Peter. Though we didn’t always agree, we cut our peace philosophically. I’m thankful for that, and often miss it.
LikeLiked by 1 person
A beautifully written postcard. I talk often to my ancestors, and they send me peace, as I’m sure your father does to you.
LikeLiked by 1 person
Me too, A. They see me the way I am.
LikeLike
Amazing how smart our parents got as we grew up. If we could only tap into that wisdom now. I miss those discussions and the advice gleaned from them.
LikeLiked by 1 person
In many ways, we’re dealing with different looking obstacles, but the insight and perseverance to overcome them is much the same. Fortunately, we can draw on that experience.
LikeLike
I don’t think our parents had the technological knowledge of the world outside their own patch and so didn’t imagine the damage they were doing. And most of the world today hasn’t woken up yet.
LikeLiked by 1 person
Each generation has experiences which others might not share. Nicely done, John.
janet
LikeLiked by 1 person