---

i
prepare
the
squirrel
we
will
have
for
dinner

i
go
to
the
­church
of
autumn
trees

the
sun
weeps
russet
through
stained
glas­s
leaves
and
its
beams
dapple
the
moist
forest
floor

i
prepare
t­he
squirrel's
precious
spirit
for
its
travel
thanking
it
and
tell­ing
it
I'm
sorry
it
had
to
die

but
my
family
is
hungry

later
to­day
i
will
teach
the
strangers
to
harvest
the
corn
we
taught
them­
to
plant

i
only
wish
they
were
as
grateful
as
i
am
for
the
squi­rrel


soulsurvivor
(C) 7/6/2015

~~~^¡^~~~


she comes for water
from the wild
dove of desert
nature's child

she of sweetness
plumage neat
buff and ecru
to my feet

she is pure
sleek of line
her's perfection
in design

she's so close
I see her eyes
she's not afraid
of my great size

curious
she looks at me
a wild thing
completely free

what have her
ancients
done and seen?
Manchu Pichu
Inca kings?

missionaries
born in Spain
conquistadors
who've
come for gain

****** men
so brutal, bold
slaughter natives
for their gold

****** in "marriage"
Aztec queens
so now their
bloodlines
are rarely seen

i think on this
Oh! Poorest love!
so much like them
my

Inca dove


soulsurvivor
(C) 6/14/2015