"16 days Backpacking in the Loess Hills"
The coyotes called in the night
Butterflies fight to lick the sun tan lotion off my arms
The ants will carry you away
Don't feel sorry for the man who's made of steel and sweat
Stripped naked of all her wares
I need you when I'm dreaming
I wake into a fools game
She drenches me with coffee and gin
The lady bug rides on my boot
They have planted something new
I have always cared for you
The removal of clothing in the night
A white horse comes into camp
I ride as a ghost in the gale
The sheperds never sleep, they seem to wait for me
The trees live on a seascape of rolling waves of loess soil
Never mind the end, where is the beginning
They fix cars, they disc fields
Where do I fit in.
Poetry from the book {Prometheus Lives} by Artist Troy Richard Thomas
No comments:
Post a Comment