Femurs and fibias
appendage of trees
Stuffed into holes
Strung up
A chain gang
It is hard to pass through
even for me
small with appose
able thumbs
Still the nomadic
chewers of cud strip
a neck length bare

They’re trying to
stop up the
ebb and the flow
Put an end to where
teeth and tail meet
Make it all
statutes, angles
and lines define
what our lives mean
with π

You can’t use depth
or perception
to stop them
No longer is reason
in vogue
But I’ve got a seed
in the crease
of my pocket
and the deed
the sun
of the moon

© Abby Smith, Writer 2013

This entry was posted in Poetry, Uncategorized and tagged , , , , by vsvevg. Bookmark the permalink.

About vsvevg

Hello, I'm Abby Smith. I started this blog in 2010 to write about the pursuit of a self-sustainable life in rural Mexico. In 2015, my then-husband and I moved to Nicaragua, where we created a successful farm-to-table and in-house charcuterie program for a high-end beach resort. In 2022, with mad butchery and cheese-making skills under my belt, I started a sustainable food systems consulting business. Happily, I also have more time for my first love-- writing about food and the complexities of the simple life.

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