a country mouse in the city
I am excited to be in New York,
me, a child of nature,
who most feels at home
where the buffalo roam, or did,
me, like Davy Crockett,
who found the smoke of a neighbor’s fire
telling him to go further away
from the contagion of people,
me, who loves to be alone on a mountain top,
alone exploring a stream, a flower,
the enigmatic schedules of a bear,
I love being here in New York,
where canyons are made by human construction,
buildings which rise straight and presumptive,
where people are everywhere,
each different as a snow flake,
each also me if I let my self soar
into imagining how very alike we are
in our dreams and in our fears,
how each difference in us is like a spice
that helps me awaken a sense within me
that loves to savor how incredible the world is
that we humans can envision and create,
New York City shouts of the hope
our species needs to endure, and prosper.
by Henry H. Walker
September 13, ‘19
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