fried dandelions taste best
with a cup of sassafras tea
boiled in an old silver kettle
that had seen better days

talking about local lore for
hours and days, class after
class; roy rickey and stella
kinney, and so much more

miles and hours of hiking
out at carter caves in the
blistering late summer 
sun that beat down on us

spotting local trees, birds,
rocks; or just listening as 
the breeze rustled leaves
and crickets called out

we never truly knew  the
value of what we were 
learning, not back then
now though i can see the
things that mr. carter was
impressing upon us 

our own history matters
our own homegrown story
is worth telling; remembering
the old ways of life that most
are forgetting now -with passage
of time and  growing progress

isn’t that how it happens?
the new replaces the old
it’s always better than it 
was, or so they tell us

looking back now, there
isn’t anything better, we
were just too young to get
it, too young to grasp it

i get it now, sir, and i?
i am so grateful for you