71

 

seventyone days

seventyone poems

some lie there like rabbits and possums
crushed under the wheels of some
rusted out pick up truck on a moonless
night on a backroad with no name

some run about crazed like a swarm
of locust looking to feast

a few are like butterflies hanging around
the flowers in an old unattended garden

and very few stand on a mountain
top looking down and
laughing in some small victory

I know, I know...

it's not much really in the big
scheme of humanity

no gold at the the end of this
rainbow

just the satisfaction of
doing

...just
     saying

          that's
                 all