The weather here is queen,
haggard goddess dodging phone calls,
prayers—she gathers storms
like cattle to market
leaving empty pastures bare to cook
for sometimes years—
sometimes centuries displacing
civilizations for archeological
supposition and conjecture.
We cannot know her mind—
she is old and forgetful
and often wanders in a haze.
But when we smell her
approaching on the wind
our dry skin tightens as
we become like reckless children
turned loose to prepare
the fires for her arrival,
be it wrath or cordial,
for she is queen
of eternity.
drycrikjournal 
John, Wonderful word smithing with Queen, Before the Rain, On Bare Acres. I hope you take to Elko a collection on the Queen. Would you have ever believed your country would be this dry after many successful ranching years? Just when we had it all figured, we are learning new ways for survival of this outfit after 40 plus years. All well in northern Wyoming. Katie
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Hopefully the Queen will match next week’s forecasts.
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Wonderful, John!
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Thanks, Louise!
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Mighty fine one, John!
Andy Wilkins
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Thanks my friend, early morning stream of thought. Let’s hook up.
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