In especially trying times …
durante la gran y larga sequía
en los Estados Unidos
en la década de 1950,
the terrible southwestern drought of the fifties …
it felt particularly satisfying
to drag my young
but experienced and leathery bare feet
through the warm deep Devine sand
while traversing my little niche
of south Texas savannah
to the wondrous Nature-made swing
in an old Mustang grape tangle …
and to sit in the sturdy U-shaped harness
and swing and contemplate,
unbothered by humankind.
While absorbing the sun
and sensing with all senses
some green grass pasture, wildflowers
and buzzing insects
and chirping birds—
even the sounds of wbawb—white!,
squirrels squirrelling and chattering above
in the canopy of the wise and sturdy old live oak,
and slow-hopping, and long-eared alert and speedy rabbits—
cottontails and jacks,
perhaps a stray chicken or guinea
and a cow or two …
while leisurely taking in all of this …
letting my thoughts glide and slide to where they wished,
sorting out my troubles
of this crazy human subset of symbioses
(like Brian Wilson in his room …
“There’s a place where I can go
and tell my secrets to
in my room
in my room” …
just a-swaying peacefully
in my naturally-secure
grapevine swing).
pbm 2/26/20
[ 7 Ss / VV->^^ ]
