We were once a people of blacksmiths, archers,
trackers, growers, sewers.
Husbands and wives to animals, trees,
storms, rivers, bees, wild flowers, wind.
Subsisters, walkers, seed savers, preservers, storytellers.
Sweat, chaff, fat, bone, salt, time, mud, fur, worms, milk.
Is it a surprise the economy is collapsing?
The economy that is fake anyway.
The air best smell off our work,
Not our waste.
Freedom is in the dandelions,
though we have come to believe
that weeds are for the killing.
It is mediocrity that is invasive.