A Native Child Who Was Raised Deep In The Mountains... Poem by RIC BASTASA

one day a native child was brought to our
place
he was raised deep in the mountains

we were at the seashore
taking our picnic and the little child asks
'why are your waters bubbling and rolling?
and i tell him it is called sea
and he takes a handful of sand and asks
'why are your soul so fine and slipping in my fingers? '
and i tell him, ' we call it sands'

and we take him for a ride in our pick-up and as i
was driving, he asks 'why are the trees and houses running? '

and i tell him, 'we are moving away'.