ethanol in his blood,
clear creek water eyes.
the air atop a mountain,
his spirit flies...

a child of the earth,
he names each tree.
fills the empty nest,
sets wild animals free.

dances naked in the firelight,
with shadows in the cave.
makes love on the ground,
no longer afraid.

gone back to himself,
primitive and unbound.
at one with the turning,
the scent, and the sound!

the howl and the moan
of wind searching rock.
le laid down his grasping,
and turned back the clock!

Eric Cockrell

http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/turned-back-the-clock/