View profile

Grass No. 47 - Dry Dry Stream

Grass No. 47 - Dry Dry Stream
By Hudson Gardner • Issue #47 • View online

Dry Dry Stream
For Abbie, because I said I would write it

First night         of wood smoke.
Acequia flows
first since
we got here.
First time picking trash out of the acequia channel
amidst old rocks
placed by dead hands.
All the places water runs from
under barbed wire below the roads
past all the vicious dogs in this place—
I’ve lived such a gentle life
I don’t even know how to spell

Barbed wire
twisted together
handwork too—
and every few years      a hole appears—
they add another strand.

Just a tangled mess
after a hundred years
is it for keeping people out,
or keeping cows in,
who low,  look for grass
where there is none.

Is it to keep us out that it is strung
across almost every place?
I see no sign saying this way or another
but a man was shot
just a hundred feet down street
from where this acequia flows
under barbe wire.

I open the wire gate
go through at the end
of a quiet road I found
past wild roses flaming blood-red, rose-hip heavy—
At least nature’s barriers    produce seeds, and fruit.

And along rio chiquito
are six old apple trees
heaps of bear sign all around.

Did you enjoy this issue?
Become a member for $6 per month
Don’t miss out on the other issues by Hudson Gardner
Hudson Gardner

Writing & Photos covering place, ecology, and existence.

Created and curated by Hudson Gardner

You can manage your subscription here
If you were forwarded this newsletter and you like it, you can subscribe here
Powered by Revue
United States