Riding The Arizona Trail On Horseback in Sycamore Canyon — Photo-Artistry by kenne
The Canyon from Horseback
The young don’t know enough
About being young
They squander youth
And never know ’til later.
Any lad of twelve will testify
An eight-year-old can’t even qualify
To be a child
At eighteen our own ignorance
At fifteen is finally written
In language we comprehend:
We know the score
Reality’s the icing on the cake
Of youthful fantasies;
When the young grow old
They know a lot
About being young
But almost nothing
About being old.
— Jack Purcell from Poems of the New Old West
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Return of the Desert Mountain — Photo-Artistry by kenne
Sun dried jerky of your past
Lies heavy on the stomach-heart
Grumbles, protests, lingers
Long, long after cactus
Arid faith
Uprooted by a desert mountain
Cloudburst flood
Has withered, blunted tines
No longer barbed
While jerky past still grumbles
Lies heavy on the stomach heart.
Lie still and watch
Lantern sun swings overhead
This banner day
Sliver moon salutes from darkened sky
Take heart. Take heart. Take heart.
Move the grumble upward to a song
To tines’ decay
Take heart take heart take heart
While dormant hidden succulents
Await return of desert mountain
Cloud burst flood
And full moon rises.
— From Poems of the New Old West by Jack Purcell,
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