Many items in the settler’s agenda,
Most pronounced is the claim for land,
A discussion not all will understand.
For waiting are persons of portenda.
Lands are seen as tribal and private,
A promise land said an ancient scribe,
Where all live, and harmony will reside,
Sustenance, if lips are tightly quiet.
The first footprint, so long ago,
From ancients, the nomadic sojourner,
Leaving his pit from a fire burner.
An uncertain claim, as pilgrims do flow.
They traveled then without an attorney,
And, gave care to build a large city.
To live there, you gotta be pretty,
Or, come with a standing army.
Francis Conlon is a retired and recovering teacher. For the past 20 years, he has worked as a seasonal river ranger and boat inspector at Yampa River State Park in northwest Colorado. He has published in the local Valley Voice and in Westward Quarterly. He currently lives in Salt Lake City, Utah.