Perfect for early bloomers,
Fiddleneck, White-veined Mallow,
London Rockets pale the pasture.
Rain in the ground, thick Filaree
overreaches like loose-fringed
lettuce for more—more of the same.
Grass ahead of the cattle, it’s war—
every seed battling for real estate,
real dirt damp, for sun and rain,
green hills puddled with spilt paint.
Everything perfect on it’s own, yet
I fret with the brittle momentum
of lean, dry years—months of dust
and hay—a hard pace that interferes
with becoming forgiving as this ground
exploding in all the colors of rain.
Desperately, I reach through
early morning black for light.
Un`camouflaged joy in the season of resurrection . . . Beautiful!
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The fillary and fiddleneck are the first harbingers here in Arizona! They foretell the coming of wildflower season! Great post and poetry as usual.
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Wonderful photo of hope. Rocks now distinguishable from dirt.
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That looks like a nice little meadow to lock a few calves onto.
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Already saving the grass in the flats for gathering to process and wean in late-April -May, depending on weather. Cows and calves up the hill now. Been a long time since we had something to save. 🙂
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