As molten streets
Circumnavigated
Each island:
Utopia,
Madness circled
Each callused leader
Shaking fists
With Sir Devil.
Groans and
Bovine squeals
Inspired construction workers
To a fury,
That led each
Minister
To a foghorn;
Cattle afraid
On auction day.
Without much notice
Neither alarm
Necks were bled and drained
Swept away
Into a drain
Flushed away with rain.
And then began
– Recycled plan
Nothing new,
No change, all the same
Nothing to excite
Not a note to cause alarm –
Monotony
So deafening
Each victim
Just ceased
In plain.
Tag: cattle
Moon at Midnight – Part VIII (day 1982)
(part VII)
I helped Amy and Frank chop wood for five days
In exchange for…
Well, I guess it would be food and board
But I was mostly staying for the company
As they were both such enjoyable humans to be around
And their two lazy dogs, Rudd and Jip,
That I still don’t understand why
They weren’t the first to greet me
And Claire, who I nicknamed Clarinet
On account of my sweet mother’s favorite instrument
Who was the child I had heard Amy speaking to
Upon my arrival.
They came from the South
Frank’s old man was a cattle baron down there
Whose ruthless ways, along with his two brothers
Had driven his kind heart out of there
Before he found himself crazy
Kind enough to send him off with
His share of the ranch, though
Amy was his sweetheart
And probably had a lot to do with his tenderness
Having been in love since they were thirteen
Holding hands in the pews at the Sunday sermons.
Amy was the only daughter of the towns only Doctor
She was tall and kind
And treated everything she came in contact with
As if it were the most precious thing around
Yet balanced it with just the right amount of sternness
That kept any good family working smoothly
Her parents missed her dearly
And came to visit once a year after the thaw
To check on the health of the family.
Had I set my heart out to build a more perfect house
I don’t think I’d have been able to
The patio afforded a view
Stretching out in front of the house
Down the meadow to the small stream
At the far end
The exterior had board and batten
Of pine that Frank had meticulously fired
Into a most beautiful looking color
Inside, Amy’s oven was perfectly stoked
To afford just enough heat to boil a pot of tea
But not enough to break a sweat
Which sat on the kitchen side of the middle of the main room
And on the far side were two rooms
One for Amy & Frank
And the other for their planned family
That currently was filled with household items
Amy needed close at hand
A sturdy table Frank had built
One met on the right just as they entered the house
And to the left upon the wall
Was where shoes were left and coats hung
And following along was storage
And more chairs to see to it
That no guest was left standing at the door.
Where the Wild Buttercups Grow (day 723)
Have you ever been where the wild buttercup grows?
Up past the fence where the cattle don’t go
There’s an oak tree there sheltering a patch
Of clovers so thick, of ground so cool
I don’t go back there often since I’ve moved away
The house has changed now, green house is blue
But when I do go up to where the buttercups grow
An overgrown path where the big old oak stays
I remember in ’24 Mary-Lou and I walked
Up to the meadow where the buttercups grow
We sat on the sunny side of the old oak tree
Upon the checkered blanket we brought with the wine
But lovers they come and some of them go
And the buttercups always continue to grow
Up in the meadow where the wild oak grows
Past the old fence where the cows don’t go