To What Degree   Sustainabilitee? The success of a farmer Can be measured in rows The fruits of his labor Grow in seeds that he sows. On oceans live a hardy breed Fishermen, women, too Of boats, nets and weather That's oft a witch's brew. Woods were to the logger What peaches are to cream Before the dreaded ESA Made nightmare out of dream. If can't be grown, MUST be mined The truth is plain to see Without gas and min'rals Our comfort will cease t'be! The rancher seldom seen Puts food upon our plate All he asks is grazing Let's hope we're not too late! - Julie Kay Smithson June 1, 2002