Rivers of cars and trucks compressed
between houses stacked like cordwood,
between parking lots and mini-malls
ready to serve anonymous strangers

usurp more earth, sterilize and seal it
from the sun and rain—level the landmarks
for living histories of neighbors and families
lending a hand, sharing labor, teaching

one another how to give and live together
without the siren’s wail I hear
in the shrinking distance—from the lights
at night that blot out constellations.

My anger has become a sad acceptance
of human ambition, the relentless waves
of wealth and debt that may go hungry with
no landscapes left to feed their souls or flesh.



  1. What a truthful storyline!

    Liked by 1 person

  2. Superb!

    Liked by 1 person

  3. Janice Gilbertson

    I feel every word. Sad . . .and true.
    I sure look forward to your Elko workshop!

    Liked by 1 person

  4. Well said, John. It saddens me to no end that agriculture seems to come last. Who cares? We can buy our food at the grocery store…

    Liked by 1 person

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