Poem: Hunter Gatherer
I acknowledge the miracle
of modern plumbing
of wizards that whisk water away
and the pill that releases
thousands of sailors into my blood
rowing their medi-ships up to my head
and eating the ache.
And I acknowledge the bits and bytes
the wires and waves
oh pocket oracle, oh deliverer of
“I love you” across oceans.
Yet I picture pressing
painted palms to cold cave grit
lifting berry and fish to lips
with pigment stained fingers.
When birdsong wasn’t devoured
by the rip roar of engines
and when pondering the stars
still pondered the infinite face of God.