Not many left who care
to see the dance, a flash
of flesh beneath her leaves,
she teases him when he’s not
watching hawks and deer—
well before you ever get there.
Not many left who care
to see the dance, a flash
of flesh beneath her leaves,
she teases him when he’s not
watching hawks and deer—
well before you ever get there.
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NATIVE HARMONIES: ranch porems







I love your poetry and ‘take’ on life John. 🙂
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Thanks so much, Jane. After a lifetime dependent on the elements, we tend to personify everything, from cattle to trees. And the more we see, the less it seems farfetched. Have a great day!
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You have a lovely day too. 🙂 I get what you are saying I think and I also think the answers for us nestle within nature. I have some young cows in the field at the back of my current assignment. They say ‘Hello’ at the garden fence and they play John…they really play. It’s a delight to watch them gambol across the field…it’s a treat. 🙂
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You have reminded me of something, I spent my teenage years on a cattle farm in Africa and that’s why these young cows are a delight to see and stroke across the fence…aahhh…happy days. The farm also had a small gold mine on it and I used to go to sleep to the sound of the stamp mill. 🙂
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You get it, and it makes more sense than what we see of that OTHER world.
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Sometimes nature looks back at us, or just watches the manzanita’s art
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