live in the City, or live in the country?

live in the City, or live in the country?

fiction
edward w Pritchard

for the suburban cowboy, and for the remaining Native Americans

When a hawk flies over your pond,
be your lot how-so-ever insignificant, be that pond however humble.

When a hawk flies over your pond,
under a blue-blue cloudless sky,
though your fence posts be cracked and your boundaries be contained by rusting wire.

When a hawk flies over your pond,
heated by a staring afternoon sun,
though your pond surface be covered with stinking green algae, and the pond be duck-less.

When a hawk flies over your pond,
when crickets chirp in the middle of the day, and frogs croak in the afternoon heat.

When a hawk flies over your pond and across your modest two acre lot,
your heart soars to behold nature's bounty.
end