Tuesday, September 29, 2020

Badlands Poems

The Oryx
Animals
do not bemoan or yearn
they have no opinion
on life or death
they simply live
until they die
perhaps they have the right of it.

Wind
Buffeting gusts
exfoliate my face
with grit
Nature's facial scrub.

Lone Coyot
Brown-red
turns to
gray-white
with Autumn's end
in sight.

Ram-of-Way
They are unconcerned
with roads, traffic
or the leering, drooling,
instagraming motorists
their only thought
is grass.

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