once, books ruled my passions
I left them — all but a few
then pictures claimed my attention
I chucked them one afternoon
now, song is my single intention
though it brings no revenue
I travel with no possessions
but a toothbrush and a tune
I camp in a farmer’s cornfield
in sight and sound of the sea
I sleep in the swallow’s shadow
come early and dance with me
we’ll take our meals at noontide
dining on things we find
we’ll open a packet of moonbeams
we’ll eat and spit out the rinds
don’t worry about your mother
your brother, sister or spouse
invite those worthies to join us
at our pinecone and bracken house
we’ll dance and sing like children
we’ll sing like the chickadee
come follow the tug of your lifeline
come early and dance with me.
— from Juniper Volume 6, Issue 1