It's Still Life

3. When He Was Just a Boy (Draft)

He came here
to escape
the noise.

The honking,
the too many voices all together
and all at once type
noise.

To escape
the streets, and the greasy diesel
brown of the rising sun.

He came here
to survive,
not knowing that the sun’s sharp hip
scars the land, that it

chafes
and cracks the soil,
leaves trees scant and skinny.

Rain never
falls freely here.

And now
he walks all the day,
and talks in soft deft tones that
quiet his goats.

And he keeps
the Miracle Man’s medicine
in his pocket –
its magic keeps thunder
inside clouds

because goats hate
thunder.

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140 words. #3 Part of the Goatherd series. Some artwork is created using Midjourney AI, and is identified as such in the ALT text or captioned. Imagery and poems ©Misky 2023.