The Scissor Tale Poem by John Stetson

The Scissor Tale
John W. Stetson
04/19/2018: 40

Walking down the fence line on a sultry night
A scissortail led me with it's slicing flight

Bluebonnets are fading, with her brown eye Susan winks
Past the muddy draw where the divers blink

Roses are prim, paint brushes still dry
But color is calling my wandering eye

I can just get away from the din and the crush
Where my mind can play midst the pale and the blush

It centers me, enters me, helps me to cope
It calms me and arms me with promise and hope

It barefoots me back to those days on the farm
Garden that smacked, tan line down each arm

It allows me to ponder a day without care
Where I used to wander and didn't care where

It clears out the clutter that builds up each day
That causes the mutter of "can't get away"

When I'm lucky it lingers at minds eyes edge
And gives me some comfort that I can just dredge

When I need it most, it's there if I look
Pressed in the pages toward the end of this book

Let that tail cut the clutter and lead me back home
And fly past the matter as I care-less-ly roam