Beneath clouds
the forecast rain peters out
to a light mist, heavy dew, a sip
to hold greening hills a week—
like always, I’m disappointed
wanting more
security for cows.
Today, we’ll cut skeletons
of brittle manzanita
into woodstove lengths
to bring Blue Oak coals
to flame each morning.
We’ll take the dog,
put out salt,
check cows and calves—
stack the brush
load the Kubota
and let her sit between us
all the way home.
Through the years
we have worn cow trails of our own.
Like always, we’ll see something
we’ve never seen before.
drycrikjournal 