50
I was born pretty small with legs shorter than most,
But could run like the wind though I don't like to boast,
Down ridge sides all covered with boulders and rocks,
And I ran without shoes and without any socks.
I could leap in the air like a wild Brumby in flight,
And scale the high cliffs to watch Eagles in flight.
I could track down a monitor catch fish from the stream,
And know by their tracks where the quail had been.
I could sit in the wilderness with nature all around,
Absorbing the Earth's spirit from the consecrated ground,
But you know in the city where it means nothing to be,
Part of the land where the rivers run free,
They swagger with pride as they eat what we grow,
Without any idea of the patriotic seeds that we sow.
©Copyright May 17, 2005 by Colin F. Jones
This poem inspired the response, 52 and 8 Months
©Copyright May 17, 2005 by Robin Amy Bass