They talk of lavender love gardens

And epiphany in the peas.

Hunter-gatherers all,

Making new connections

With old principles and new friends.

Shoshone and Paiutes mainly,

Led to Ga-Du-Gi gardening

By an Eastern Cherokee.

There are visions of course.

We Whites like them set out on paper

To justify our involvement,

And the government funding.

The Native people don’t trust paper much.

We don’t discuss why.

We know why.

“Hoopsters” they laughingly call themselves,

With visions of hoop houses

Springing up like pinion-juniper

Across the high desert.

We write this down under goals and objectives,

And try to fit them into a Spirit Wheel.

Yet, we share enough of our own spirit

To bond with the unstated fears,

The unrealized dreams.

Outside the fresh air heightens our senses.

We have our own Wheel now,

Too ephemeral to discuss,

Lest it vanish in harsh realities.

Decades come and go,

But the Earth abides;

Ready to nurture and sustain

Those attuned to her rhythm and needs.

We are getting there.

Francis Flavin

Francis Flavin’s poetry has appeared in Poetry Quarterly, Blueline, Pacific Review, Blue Collar Review, La Piccioletta Barca, Three Line Poetry, The Closed Eye Open and Tempered Runes. His work has received recognition in the Soul-Making Keats Competition, Chicagoland Poetry Contest, Working People’s Poetry Competition and the 2020 Writer’s Digest awards.

NOVUS Literary and Arts Journal
Lebanon, TN