Late spring rains last into October,
empty-headed wild oats bow
to a southwest wind suggesting change
from broiling days—maybe rain.
Snakes crawl out from under shade,
backs to the sun, warm their bellies
in fine trail dust. Blue Oaks shed
large dark acorns glinting
in dry leaves like burnished gems
and we are rich, breathe deep relief
as fresh calves find steady legs
to run without direction, learn to stop.
We gladly give all up to chance
and certain change believing
this is the time we live for.
drycrikjournal 