Two months from Elko
busy branding calves,
begging for rain and grass,
we listen under an empty
overcast to “A Matter
of Believin’” as if Gail
were here with 100 years
of ranching lessons
in poetry and song.
South slopes all but done,
thin feed gray on clay
showing again,
it’s time to love
this short spring
wrapped in wildflowers
with our old friend
and glass of wine—
the whole show
mostly behind us now,
we indulge ourselves,
embrace the storms
of good fortune
we have worn well—
believing and trusting,
adapting like cattle
to these same hills
just harvesting grass.
drycrikjournal 