Stomping divots in this ocean of mud
Is like trying to make the earth flat again
And you laugh and I say some people
Are actually trying and not only that but
They would have us unwind the journeys
Of our ancestors across isthmus bridges
Across oceans on ships so tender that
They could not sail even a broad reach
Across rivers and through tunnels at night
Holding hope that some will not be deported
My barn is big enough for six families
At least, enough feet to stomp all the divots
Enough to carry on the farm when I die
Enough for a complete circle around the fire
So let us go out now into the muddy pasture
And ask the horses for those greater hearts
© Bill Prindle, 2019
Horses in the field by Peter, from Bern, Switzerland from Wikimedia Commons |
1 comment:
Beautiful---last line took me off-guard.
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