Walking past the mare, I let my hand follow the shape of her body, her hair so short it has no texture in the height of summer. My fingers slip under her mane first, and remembering the full moon on night she was born, watching with the rest of the herd as her dam gave … Read more
Talking with her while I walk the farm, I say look what you’ve done with the new grass. Earth sends a breeze to finger the dandelion fluff balls, a few seeds released. I wonder if she’s forgotten the elm tree, twigs barren of leaves so late in the spring. The growling sound of the four-wheeler … Read more
To feel the red soil, fine dust to pea gravel, with each toe through the sole of my shoe. To feel held by the earth, rooted and dear. Soften one knee with deliberate balance, shift weight gradually to the other foot and then sway back, to feel the hip roll follow the first to … Read more
Fences mended with twine until there’s more time. Scrubbed water tanks filled fresh, drank down to half by noon. Shoveling muck into the cart, I would be done by now, but for the meadowlark aerials just above. But for the Canada geese inspecting the tall weeds at the edge of the pond. But for … Read more
To the land of Parrot Chickens.
What poetry and Brussel sprouts have in common.