We may be just country folk—
illiterates to you,
but we got somethin’ you ain’t honed,
its horse sense, tried ‘n true.

Ya leave the glitz of Hollywood,
an’ city life behind,
move out to the country,
an’ break them ties that bind.

Ya build your fancy mansions,
an’ cabins in the hills,
start shoutin’ out big orders,
an’ makin’ all them deals.

An’ once ya get all settled,
an’  fill up all our schools,
ya start that politickin’,
an’ changin’ all the rules.

Environmentalist, I hear,
is what ya call yourself,
an’ then begin to pass new laws
to put loggin’ on the shelf.

Ya want to live with critters,
as friends, ya say, “AS ONE,”
to pet the pretty Grizzly Bears,
an’  tramp their space fer fun.

Ya stop our huntin’ cougars
on horseback with our hounds,
complainin’ when they multiply,
an’ congregate in town.

Ya just don’t seem to understand—
our way with nature works,
so why move in with bluster,
an’ tell us we’re all jerks?

There ain’t no way fer friendly
with creatures in the wild,
or tryin’ to pet the Grizzlies
an’ find ‘em meek ‘n mild.

But you just keep on tryin’
to pet the pretty bear—
soon you’ll find that YOU’RE extinct,
an’ we won’t really care.

        Tamara Hillman
       ©2003