the swamp I am a city boy.
Three tons of machine against nature
primeval thrashing, sucking me under.
I will conquer
cypress knee and sawgrass
to build a small solar cabin. To escape
the siege of the city I will make a road.
mountainsides in Georgia,
loblolly from the Carolinas, slate from
Tennessee riverbeds I'll bring the swamp.
I will crack
oystershells on weekends
away from busroutes and timetables,
if someone comes to pull me out.
2River View, 3_2 (Winter 1999)