fifty miles from the nearest store
tucked back into the oaks and pines
where doves die, and vultures soar
where the warming sun never shines

he sits in his ply board home
in the dew drops of dampened dreams
he would rather be wet and alone
he says it's not as bad as it seems

heating water in a ***** ***
for his morning pine needle tea
he really believes he has a lot
though he has less than you and me

he hits the trails to check his traps
hoping for a protein boost
he collects greens and mushroom caps
everything he sees, has a use

people say he isn't worth a dime
like a dime is all they can see
he thinks they're not worth his time
he thinks they're not living free