KUDZU by John Drudge

KUDZU by John Drudge

Life runs thin

As a mountain stream

In late summer

Dwindling toward

Its inevitable end

Each drop mattering

Yet we squander

Spilling and hoarding

Pretending there is more

Than there is

Voices rising

Sharp and brittle

As frost on dry leaves

Each claiming the truth

While their roots

Rot in shallow soil

And the earth watches

Patient as we bicker

Over borders and doctrines

Drawing lines in the sand

That the tides will erase

Hypocrisy

Growing like kudzu

Choking wild spaces

While ideologies harden

Like old trails

Static and unyielding

Blind to the shifting path

In the wind

The endless sky

And the quiet rhythm

Of lone footsteps

On new dirt

Reminding us of what endures

John is a social worker working in the field of disability management and holds degrees in social work, rehabilitation services, and psychology. He is the author of seven books of poetry: “March” (2019), “The Seasons of Us” (2019), New Days (2020), Fragments (2021), A Long Walk (2023), A Curious Art (2024) and Sojourns (2024) . His work has appeared widely in literary journals, magazines, and anthologies internationally. John is also a Pushcart Prize and Best of the Net nominee and lives in Caledon Ontario, Canada with his wife and two children.