After a good rain, the cows have left
the feed grounds greening, grabbed their calves
and headed for the ridgetops where raindrops
slowly settled to weave fast growing
blades between the matted hollow stems
to make a mouthful, a musty bit of old
with the fresher taste of a new beginning.
We feel the same searching hillsides
for black dots of grazing pairs, oblivious
to the feed truck’s throaty idle,
way down in the flats, close to the hay barn,
now wearing a dark empty hole.
drycrikjournal 
Hoping you’re feeling better, pardner…they were right; this getting older business is most definitely not for sissies. Best wishes for a speedy return to good health!
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Thanks, man, working in that direction.
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Really like the image in the last stanza. Makes me think of Victor David Hansen declaring the uselessness of the hay barn in Modern Agriculture. VDH is wrong about many things – including the usefulness of hay barns.
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