Ronald Shields Poems
Cold and dark in the morning
talk comes with a price
it is a bargain for the waitress
and diners get what they need.
The eggs are served with sympathy
for another birthday missed
the road is more than miles for
the trucker who takes them over hard.
Booth number 9 is an omelet and oatmeal
a preacher and acolyte looking for a church
the preacher's collar is frayed and yellowed
in service to a god who speaks too softly.
At the table by the door the farmers drink
coffee and talk of weather tractors prices
they have the look of a dying breed not...
I do not understand nature.
Cannot not match bird to song,
leaf to tree, petal to flower.
Too much learned at arm's length
the secondhand story that comes
from the TV or movies.
Out among the birdsong in all
its seasons I am confused,
out of my element, feigning