In 1984, I assimilated this southern drawl and slow sly wit.
Whilst i felt so foreign, at first, and had to sit in the woods alone
and meditate, I met this one gopher tortoise one day. He slowly startled me when he stuck his long neck out and offered me a bite of a gopher apple.
It tasted like the bubble gum I used to get with Detroit Tiger baseball cards in. We slowly became best friends. I met his convex mate and others with his first name he generously shared his burrow with.
His home was home to crickets frogs and snakes, he asked me to join them.

I was too big, of head or ego, I really don't know, why I did not join him.
I still wander the woods where frequent fires have burned, and find on sand hills, among the creamy white flowers  
and ***** stems,
the gopher apples. And plant them in memory of my friend, so slow and wise.
I see him time to time,
but find him rare and rarer.

before the sky was blue or the moon
     glowed true enough
for two young lovers
      on the hill
and dew was dry as we were
          clothed in bodies
sweat and our own light
           diamonds glittered in our eyes
as we glistened in green grasses soft on our hill
            to dream of days
blowing through our wind
          singing us a lovely
tune a psalm of us.

His green eyes stare into mine
Glistening in the candlelight
Shifting their gaze as it flickers
He kisses my hands and up my arms
Melting my heart and the snow

If you were my lady
I am a carpenter
would you be my babay
tomorrow
I would give up this quest to overcome
loneliness
work my calloused hands to tender sores
every minute
grind away my hardness
wipe away the dirt from my ***
so thee would see my shine
and my true grit.
If I were a true poet
I would have asked you better,