Friend, it’s okay
to drift. Go
along a muddy path
into a swell clearing. Look hard to see
the old foundation. The weeds are winning.
This was the house of a farmer
who put his still
in the hill. The next farmer’s cows kept falling in the hole.
In any case, you are breathing.
By the time you are handed a bottle
of syrup, it’s the truth.
Feel sorry for yourself, and the trees, the creek,
the two hawks fighting, the whole earth
is indifferent.
Betsy says: In a baffled season, live
the small words.
Sap. Flow.
Even if you have to fight, fly.
“Betsy says: In a baffled season, live” / the small words.” Love it.
These are so good.