A poem a day into the millennium
18 October 1999
Rising sun through yellowing
Aroma of campfire pine.
Conversation of squirrels and
I do not understand the attraction
Television and empire:
Like sex or baklava,
However enticing, a life of nothing
Seems to me tedious and indigestible.
Purple asters opening to morning
Noruish my soul. What is life
Is warmth and fragrance of my
Worth the blades of grass and
It feels so to me, as a poem
Worth the bit of tree the paper
I'll die too one day, not a terror
But reason to ask what nourishes
That when it's done and while
I turn to rising sun through
Knowing, spontaneously to give
for the day.
- Uncle River