Passing school buses in Joseph
half past gold on that young cottonwood
it is as surely a new season
as anything I know. day after day
the changes come bit by bit but
not so slow you miss it.
how many times has it been
just another drive by?
for now the stars shine on gold -
I have never believed
I must tramp on wilderness for it to be beloved
for myself each rare day
Kathy Bowman (Zumwalt Prairie Poetry Cache)
