“I do not like that man. I must get to know him better.”~Abraham Lincoln
Their brand burns deep into my brain,
a forced filter to inform my knowing.
My life inscribed by words to the wise,
imbibing heady spirits they’ve poured
bypassing my heart. Seeing through glass
darkly with these prescripted eyes.
The lakeshore is vivid today only.
Golden-yellow gleams sun’s tribute.
Scarlet-orange carpets green.
Purple-mahogany deep drama.
Every tree a poem
deserving 1,000 new words.
No need to crowd
the lines of gawkers missing
by an hour because some bone-
head saving daylight sends
them into cubicle-cages
through the darkness
wealth-seekers know. Sliding
over my rough spots like butter
while I’m too tender to resist.
I absorb it, changed, make lists
of ways I can succeed. Until a friend
requests, tune in,
and suddenly I’m walking the devil’s
backbone and this is no place
for sleep. Every word I know a white
man’s barb into my flesh,
it only hurts when I begin
to pull away
and then, oh damn,
there is no easy way out.
Tree praise blazing
in the center of my
It doesn’t fit.
Just like me
so glorious we stay.
Inspired by: List, Heady, Glass and Butter. and the Devil’s Backbone in Pine Hills Nature Preserve, a 100-foot-high stone ridge barely wide enough for the trail to cross. (Photo courtesy of https://visitindiana.com/blog/index.php/2019/07/10/pine-hills-nature-preserve/)