Our recreations of the past
are made with love and meant to last
  and if they fail it is because
love has exhumed what truly was.

  The smell of old experiments
that overpowered innocence,
  preclude accepting what we were
although we know it should occur.

  To find a better smell today
let love, forgiving, show the way;
  because, when hatred gets its turn,
it leaves another maze to learn.

  World wide, we can't avoid despair,
the stench of pain no one can bear.
  How slowly nations learn to care!
They can't agree on what is fair.

  Fear and hatred dictate fashion.
Wisdom hides is scarred compassion.
  The love that rules must stay on course
without hard cash or deadly force.

  So, Saints keep hoping, poets too.
We need to share a better view.
  Whatever stink from history
this world is where we all must be.

Curious calf,
you look at me,
fixated.
Nearby, your mother is grazing.
You have no fear
You are so cute -
you newborn thing - 
you deserve to be appreciated
by many very young ladies.

In the best of worlds
one of them would claim you,
name you,
care for you,
get close enough to hug you
fearlessly.
You would become her pet,
included in her future
forever - safe from the carnivores:
the cougar,
the wolf,
the coyote,
the bear,
and the cattle buyer
at the county fair.