Trying not to Remember
I walk my dog down a country lane.
And pull him back from creatures slain.
Toads are poison and snake can be too.
Staffordshires are smart but not about goo.
The scene is lovely from a long, wet spring.
The flowers glow and the birds all sing.
Except the vultures who circle and sail.
While I whistle a song about not being a nail.
The cattle at times like to hear my whistle,
And they crowd the fences overgrown with thistle.
Mesquite in bloom and Hercules club,
All plants with points you don’t want to rub.
My terrier and I sped a turtle with red ear,
As a car approached he had no fear.
Yet the dog and I were a terror to flee,
So a vulture's meals was not to be.
The vulture will not be hungry in bed.
For on the road there is still enough dead.
And all the while I try to forget what runs through my head,
by a raving orange maniac our country is led.