fools of the foothills

the fools of the foothills 

are money-rich and time-poor

incredulous, for their ignorant

with their wicked honest barbed tongues

doing damage though they cannot know

to the licking ponds

to the lotus and the marsh and the snow

tip-toeing gently around a refreshment bush

growing seasonally, annum, frosh until it drops

scattered along the land

the smog of excavation lingers

hasn't cleared so the sky

can't breathe

and the trees and the soil fear ceased growth

the fools

in the night when their softspot is visible 

the sunlight ruminates

and the fools of the foothills know somehow

tomorrow must come and knowing that

the fools they are

make them fools much less

distraught