I know where the grass grows first, fresh and tender where raindrops linger above the road and creek below. I can feel wild spirits talk, dewless tracks where they walk, stepping lightly to lay beside me and my calf. From here we shed the claustrophobe of fence and gate, far away from the human race.
Posted in Photographs, Poems 2021, Ranch Journal
Tagged after rain, first grass, ridgetops, space and distance
Dark rain in waves, an oscillation of applause upon the roof that soothes and insulates the senses from the distant discord of mankind, the lucid transparency of public figures that saddens the soul— this narrow canyon lit across in gold, blind flashes of humility, the roll of thunder close. The short-cropped green hangs on to naked clay hoping for heaven’s basket of spilt miracles to soften hillsides for roots—and cloven hooves reaching for the ridgetops ripe for more level grazing. Dark rain in waves punctuated by the light— relief for what we know.
Posted in Photographs, Poems 2021, Ranch Journal
Tagged Allie & Audrey, cattle, Drought, girls, grass, hillsides, rain, ridgetops, Wagyu X branding
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