A form change poem

(with thanks to David Bouchard, If You’re Not From the Prairie . . . )

 

If you’re not from Vermont,

You don’t know maple products.

You don’t know the taste of maple syrup.

 

If you’re not from Vermont,

You don’t know mountains,

The famous Green Mountains.

 

If you’re not from Vermont,

You don’t know mud,

That thick, gooey mud,

The slobby mud that sucks your boot into the depths,

That squishy brown.

 

If you’re not from Vermont,

You don’t know the woods,

The big maple trees with the sap that turns into sweet syrup.

 

If you’re not from Vermont,

You don’t know views,

All the mountains with snow at the peaks of them.

 

My legs are the trees swaying in the wind.

My hair is like the branches of the maple trees.

If you’re from Vermont,

You know God’s creation.