Dried Puddles on Bidez Drive

Dried Puddles on Bidez Drive















Long after the rains cease to fall
And July draws in her reins of hell
The parched, dirt road of Bidez
Beckons the senses with art

As I walk down the ol' dirt road
Alone with myself
And whatever happens to join with my mind
I wonder if anyone knows of my paradise

Casual and alone, and taking in the views
That only I will see this day
Am I really alone on this Saturday
Or are there others around that sense what I sense

The old Blue Jay hops down the gulley of the passage
Seeking the buffet of the country road
A lone chipmunk gathers the new nuts of the season
And swiftly runs with her treasure to the homestead

A brown lizard, with tattered scales
Scurries across the hot, dusty pebbles
And finds the shade
Of an ancient Kudzu vine

I reach behind me, in my tattered jeans pocket
And pull out my own treasure of words
"Walden's Pond" calls me to listen
And under the old Chestnut Tree, I rest

I am lost in the drama
Of a New England forest
But I am forever burdened
With a Southern Exposure.............