Behold by David Lee

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And came forth like Venus from an ocean of


heat waves, morning in his pockets and the buckets in his hands


he emerged from the grey shed, tobacco and wind


pursed together in song from from his tight lips he gathered day


and went out to cast wheat before swine. And in
his mind he sang songs and thought thoughts, images of clay

and heat, wind and sweat, dreams of silver and

visions of green earth twisting the cups of his mind

he crossed his fence of wire, the south Utah steppes

bending the air into corners of sky he entered

the yard to feed his swine. And his pigs, they come.
please note--art by Vernita Bridges Hoyt

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Hey, thanks for your thoughts and your time:>)

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