Last two hundred years,
six days afire—forgotten
ash and sediment.
Two sections of grass,
twenty-four tons on the hoof
leaving for your plate.
Posted in Haiku 2018, Photographs, Ranch Journal
Tagged haiku, photography, poetry, Wagyu X
A season teeters
on the beam, calves condensing
strong grass on the hoof.
Flash of tender bloom
for a single day each year
when we remember.
“Let the Mothers Decide to Make War”
Posted in Haiku 2018, Photographs, Poems 2018
Tagged Andy and Alissa Hedges, Andy Wilkinson, Echinopsis, Emily Wilkinson, haiku, photography, poetry
Trees and flowers
below clouds above the creek
never looked the same.
Neither trust nor fear
of us inhibits a hawk’s
delight on the lawn.
~
The Sharp Shinned Hawk has been making a living around the house for over two months and become our coffee and cocktail entertainment. We do all but applaud its low flap and glide aerobatics in pursuit of startled quail. Though probably only a temporary guest, we’ve become comfortable with one another’s tastes and habits. Not too persnickety, the Sharp Shinned Hawk taunts us with ground squirrels (dead or alive) quail and ringnecked dove. Last night, a Black Phoebe was the casualty.
Posted in Haiku 2017, Photographs
Tagged haiku, photography, poetry, Sharp Shinned Hawk, wildlife
On and off the trail
they’ve learned to work together
and with us as well.
We dream of coasting
into a ripe green pasture
that wants for nothing.
Ripe April grasses
bellyhigh on the leaders
blind below their knees.
Mothers and babies,
pastoral dreams cross the green
with girls a horseback.
(click)
