We are well done—
too long on the fire,
too long grinning at the gods
through clenched teeth.
Rocks shine on naked slopes,
dirt and dust have risen
in search of rain. We wear
circles in dry earth
back and forth to water
feeding hay, meet each other
plodding in a daze.
We are well done,
too long laughing
at old age, too long wondering
how tomorrow will look
backwards on today.
We raise another glass
to all this, anyway.
drycrikjournal 
In spite all the bad, I’m sure you must still take some solace in where you live, in God’s country with his critters as neighbors. It shows in your writings and photos.
May the testing end soon.
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