DO Poetry: Part 1
Too late, but just in time
I arrived too late to see the cypress giants, crystal water, flocks of birds big enough to block the sun. I arrived too late to hear the drum of ivory woodpeckers or the chuffing of black bears.
The old gods lay resting in wait for what’s to come, and the new ones are manmade.
And yet here I remain, cradling a pebble of purple corn between my palms like a worry stone, seeking out little secret places where the still-living spirits hide.
I am the only one I know who can speak mockingbird or dig lotus roots.
No one wants to learn.
Late I arrived, but still in time for pecan trees, and a muddy pond full of blue catfish.
I have been entrusted to defend little more than this- a single silver hair upon the head of all creation.
Let me die before it’s taken from me, too.