Behind the Grindstone

Well, here we go again. In the midst of having to change the offensive names of school mascots, logos, mountains, towns, creeks and the list goes on and on we now are at risk of contacting another virus.

Jake was an old-time cowboy. A through back from the olden days.

It seems our Climate Change Crisis may be itself facing a crisis. The headlines read “New Message to Aliens will Reflect an Earth in Danger of Climate Crisis.

Here on the prairie in what I reckon is known as rural America, where day to day decisions are made affecting life and livelihood based on common sense, it seems much of society has gone insane. I wrote this poem and it was published several years ago but it seems more relevant as time goes on.

Covid. That’s about all you hear about in the news.

The bunkhouse was full
‘Cause the trail was snowed in
Things were right tense
And patience ran thin

He was old and he was scrawny
His beard was turnin’ gray
Few there were who would listen
To what Pops had to say