Where the creek stops in moss-laden pools
miles above the Kaweah in August, wild hens
collect with half-grown poults scratching for seeds

and bugs—aware, but not caring. I whistle
for a gobble as they drift off into the brush
as I have, into the canyons of lichened rock,

the Live Oak and Chamise. I am native
here, apart from where I came to forget
the blunderbuss of duplicity.

I came to be refreshed by the unafraid,
by the innocent and self-reliant—
I came to bring some home with me.


3 responses to “BRINGING SOME HOME

  1. Lovely. Thank you for sharing. Take care.

    Liked by 1 person

  2. Benjamin Smith Munger

    Gather as much as is there.


  3. So good. Thank you.

    Liked by 1 person

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