PAREGIEN PLACE

The Valley fog has risen
to high-ground hillsides
leaving light on peaks,

warm islands enflamed
to cord limb wood
for branding and cook fires,

and a load of Manzanita
through a layer of gray
to the woodstove below—

as the generator pumps
tank and troughs full.
Up here, we’ve been rained

and snowed upon,
sorted cows from calves
in fog so thick

you couldn’t see
across the corral.
Up here, you brand

as soon as you can
with a crew of neighbors
who’ve been here before.