Summer field at rest; alive.
We stopped haying twenty-five years past.
Birds and bugs, golden rod and asters and
Worts, spiders, voles make it their home.  We mow
Once a year.

And it breaks my heart.  Good-by flowers for
Honey bees.  Cover for warblers,
Mama turkeys and broods.  Bedroom for deer.
Hidden lunch room for ground hogs
Until Jack Russell breaks their necks,

At least of the little ones.

Old hog mama requires my intervening shovel.
Otherwise she'd shred Jack's face.

                                              9/23/2012

The Dark Ages  (The Atheist)

“Do you solemnly swear to tell...
So help you God?”

Well,  (“No”)of course not, Twit, for there is
No god.

Then how do you know the truth?
The lie?  The thief?
Is there the immoral?

Or the moral?

Shall I covet for the hell of it?

**** the beggar, the homeless, the starving through the laws
Of Economics and Pandering to those who have?

In the Dark Ages, this was sufficient.



12/14/11