In the churning air we breathe
the latest news cascades from mountaintops,
waterfalls of misty details stream instantly
around us, tugging eddies we ignore
like bad dreams—waking to
and shaking off nightmares of fear
we carry on, we persevere.
How I envy cattle and coyotes
their ignorance, poor dumb beasts
with habits honed day by day,
moon to moon. Greeted by heifers,
nearly yearlings coming into season,
I can feel their flesh crawl with heat
beneath tight black hides that shine—
each day yet a new confusion.
It will suffice to linger among them
reading poetry under my breath
until they bore with my poor intellect.
drycrikjournal 
For such dark content, your poem sings, albeit an anxious tune. It puts me in mind of an R.E.M. song called “It’s the end of the world”. Oh to be a dumb beast.
LikeLiked by 1 person
Nobody can tell it like a poet. Your poem hits the tingling nerve of truth in all of us. Good job!!
LikeLiked by 1 person