Next Time Around

The walk to the barn every morning
Is half hangover, half wintertime blues
As I feed the animals I recite the mantra
Of the six syllables and tell the animals:
Maybe next time you’ll be new acquaintances
And I will come to see you,
Mr. Browne, Ms. Albert, Cheyenne, Mr. Zeeb, Kokopelli
And you will think that you have seen me somewhere before
Or maybe I remind you of someone you once knew.