dave steger

the mind's west

to hunt and fish
to plant and grow
sow the soul seed
then harvest the mind
lose what it was i never could find

mornings i'd rise with the sun
saddled up
slingin' a gun
all day i'd ride
shoot a smirk on the side
which rose amongst the teton's mountainside

in the mind's west
the chimney's smoke is dark
the mindful sheepdog always does bark
and even the sunstained porch stays dark

dusk's dinner simmers
the rickety chairs they rock
brookside reeds dance
the grass it howls
branches wither
as the free range whistles a shiver

the world went dark
then my alarm clock went off
the city rush hour screamed
i showered, ate breakfast,
and wrote on this page what it was i had dreamed