Stories From Tierra Amarilla
An old man and his old black dog sit in the sun,
the wind deflected by a crumbling adobe wall,
rusty hinges barely supporting
a paint-chipped blue door that never opens.
The old abuelo's drooping head
is full of cuentos he's told himself all his life,
half made up in his mind, though all of them true.
He tells these stories to his deaf, white-whiskered dog
or any passerby that stops to share the sun.
If you stopped, he would tell all those stories to you,
and you would feel obliged to carry them with you,
not as stones in your pocket,
but as poems written on dragonfly wings.
Larry Schug lives with his wife, dog and two cats in St. Wendel Twp., Minnesota and volunteers as a college writing tutor and as a naturalist. He's published eight books of poems and just finished a home made chapbook called "May This Day...". www.larryschugpoet.com