NATIVE CHANGES

 

 

Cover of wild oats, blond empty heads
and hollow stems, high on the ridges—
leftovers from last year’s incessant storms

that fed dark blankets of acorns
beneath the oak survivors of drought
that turned deer hair a healthy blue—

and shade this season’s thirsty green
waiting, waiting for a rain. Each year
a perfect season for someone, something

adaptable, generations in the same place.
When I was too busy being a loud cowboy,
I inhaled the wild without caring why,

without tasting the difference between
being alive and lasting for a longer time—
still learning to sip instead of guzzling wine.

 

2 responses to “NATIVE CHANGES

  1. Love the poem, especially the last lines. That describes youth in all it’s thoughtless facets. Lenore

    Liked by 1 person

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out /  Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out /  Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )

w

Connecting to %s