Wednesday, October 19, 2011

Poem: Culture

When the only tool you have is a hammer,
The whole world is a nail.
An ongoing sickness,
Hard to prevail.
Blinders on a horse,
Its beautiful mane,
Woven tightly into a shining braid.
A different hat,
Or tool for the trade.
Bound by culture,
No one's insane.


  1. E - your comment makes me laugh. thank you :)

    Sanders - your dogs make me laugh. And thank you also.

    Hope the western fall is treating you both well!