We will crouch down then in a red earth
    hollow, press our lips close to the heart
    of this deep Cockpit Country and call out
    please don't change or change if you must
    just change slow. Old countryman riding
    jackass, big woman watering the dry peas,
    fat cow, and mawga dog, one-room dwelling
    with intricate carved lace fretwork eaves.
    Heaped yam hills, garlands of green vines,
    cockades of bamboo on crown of the hillside.
    Little bit of country village place or woodland
    name of Content, Wire Fence, Stetin, Allsides,
    far from domain of gunman and town strife.
    Country we leave from to go and make life.