Yellow daffodils
clumped like campfires
on gray days,
gopher snake sunning
in a dirt road,
no snow in Elko,
no rain at home—
‘Climate change,’ you say,
‘is tree hugger poppycock
leveraged to slow production
and change our ways.’
White-limbed buckeyes
feathered in tender green,
turkey hens leaving sororities
cruising the creek to nest
adapt to the propaganda
as we scuttle normal
with options for cattle
without rain, grass to graze.
Nothing stays the same, only
nothing—the wild balance
scrambles for survival.
truth – and I love those little tree frogs…
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