The weeks take wing and flutter
like coveys of quail to safety,
seasons spin into one another

as the dawn rides up and down,
north and south, upon the ridgeline,
never resting in the same place twice

no matter the year—this moment
unique. And these old eyes
still sharp at a distance, see more

than they used to—know the details
to look for. I am learning how
to talk with my eyes, conversations

accompanied with words:
reverberating murmurs in my chest
from a gentle land we understand.


5 responses to “READING CATTLE

  1. Beautiful, and I feel such heartfelt words.

    Liked by 1 person

  2. Another great one for the book.

    Liked by 1 person

  3. “Reverberating murmurs in my chest from a gentle land we understand.”
    This I a an awesome, poetic line!

    Liked by 1 person

  4. Your love of the land shines through

    Liked by 1 person

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