Sun on her face

She stood, eyes closed, in the morning sun.

He watched her, the small secret smile.

Winter’s grip loosening under the rays.


Her face softened, the lines less hard.

He watched her, the love of his life.

Winter’s hard pack melting fast now.


She stretched, leaning against him.

He smelled the sunshine in her hair.

Winter’s darkness shattering again.


She kissed his grain dust covered cheek.

He pulled wheat chaff from her hair.

Winter’s sleep awakens. Spring!


She accepts the promise from the sun.

He holds the seeds of another year.

Winter’s back turns. Retreat!


Loading a truck of wheat this morning, and after the auger quieted and the truck left the yard I was able to stand quietly and bask in the spring (early spring, mind you) sunshine. This poem was born in that moment. Enjoy, and God bless farmers!

#tagthis mystic

Graffiti Creator

Fullscreen capture 2212013 35350 PM.bmp

#tag this

#tag that

before the # tag

a tag your sign

on the wall.

Here, in paint.

before the paint

was locked up

under key

and the words

on the walls

were urban



crossing road

and rail line

echo sentiments



Train car

sroll on by,

I squint

to read their


in paint

and think

of the


and where

their empty





With dVerse poets tonight…won’t you join us?



From where he plays she is the black dog.

Friend, protector, random barker, tail wagging Lego smasher.

From where she sits he is her job.

To protect, cuddle, lick, lean on and stare at with love.

From their perspective the world is very simple.

Eat, play, love, sleep start all over again tomorrow.

Sometimes they get busted for one thing or another.

It is a part of life. Both boy and dog. They move on.

When they play, they play hard.

When they sleep, they sleep hard.

The bigger the laugh the harder the tail wags.

The more the tail wags the more he laughs.

Her joy feeds upon his, his upon hers.

Around and around. Until they sleep.

Crashing in a sunbeam on a sunny winter day.

Nothing quite seems the same once you’ve seen life

from their angle on the floor.

Getting down with them to see, to play, to laugh

lightens the load of any heavy day.

God knows this. He gave us both to remind us

that joy should be sought after.

He gave us both to remind us of

perspective.  His, ours, theirs.

Who is being blessed?

Who is doing the blessing?

Does it matter when boy and dog

have rescued one another

and have nothing but

an easy comfortable



remember this, remember that



She was fierce. A red doberman. When they were like pitties today.

It was a house trailer. We slept in the hallway on windy nights.

In case it got blown over. SMACK. I won’t forget that.

The naugahyde couch. Sticky and buckskin. Stitched fence and saddle.

The coffee table with chewed corners. From the dog. As a pup.

Candy dishes often empty, sometimes full. Always glass.

Velvet paintings of horses, I wondered about the missing leg for years.

Realized later it was right behind another one. Not missing at all.

Brown carpet, ‘hair cut’ in a corner by my little brother.

Blanket tents and pop tarts. Saturday morning cartoons.

Making cereal on our own while the grown ups slept in.

Wooden chairs. Stacked magazines. Party line phone.

No trees. Not that bald prairie yard. Just grass and wind.

Wind. Oh wind until your brain unraveled. Wind.

And races down the hallway until someone,

someone grown up said STOP. Shouted STOP.

And we did, giggling until tears rolled down.

Dressing up the dog and teddy bears. Patience was

her virtue. As was pancake catching. And protecting.

We argued there, as only close in age siblings can.

We played. We tried to figure out the Star Trek posters.

Scared of the Klingons we hid around corners

when THEY came on the TV.

Snuck up on Santa there too, caught Daddy drinking

Santa’s beer on Christmas Eve. Uh oh.

Looking at an old photo has me remembering.

Remembering this, and remembering that.

For dVerse Poets with Victoria at the bar. Going back in time to remember.  

Help I need somebody

Fireblossom at With Real Toads has a neat challenge today. I’m taking it to the extreme of word association by using all the words, and hoping for something fun.  I’m not editing, I’m just writing responses to the words on the list. Enjoy!


dignity none to be found in winter gear
woven into my thoughts are dreams
innocence that I lost so long ago to a
desire that was not my own cutting short
exploring thoughts of a tropical get-away.

tangible things – frozen gloves and eyelashes
sweltering under my winter gear, I’m faint!
questions arrise about my sanity, or lack thereof
simple tasks become so hard in a blizzard
flicker there goes the power – no heat, no lights.

clamp down on the panic, generators come on-line!
assaulted by the forty below blues, I wonder if the
projector will show Star Wars on the wall again 
scorpions made of Lego stab my bare feet in the dark.
served again a bowl of cold humble pie. Cows can be

merciless in their needs and desires. Farms don’t have
sidewalks to chalk, pavement to pound, but there are always
secrets to keep, whispered into soft equine ears, never needing
permission to share, and always keep their secrets, even when
enticed by apples and carrots and things sweet and crunchy.

otherwise I don’t know what I would do, maybe a double
shot of espresso to keep me awake and not playing
opossum on the couch, wondering about warm days
missed thinking about spring instead of playing in the snow
giving rise to doubts about this farm life we love.

prayed oh I’ve prayed.
packed and repacked, somethings packed to stay.
bulldoze those crazy notions,  don’t be so
nervous about the future. It will be
exactly as God plans. And He makes good plans!

I Quit!

I quit farming today.

Quit ranching. Quit cows.

If it wasn’t one thing

it was six others.


I quit trying today.

Quit horses. Quit cows.

If they weren’t falling down

they were stuck in a fence.


I quit trudging today.

Quit snow. Quit winter.

If it wasn’t froze up

it was stalled out  dead.


I quit with it all. Done!

Quit doing. Quit trying.

But then I’m not really

built that way, am I?


I quit beating myself up.

Quit that. Quit that too.

I realized cows are dumb

and one horse is clever.


I quit feeling so helpless.

Quit yelling. Quit crying.

We got the heifer out, and

the cow’s head unstuck.


No one died. Only one cried.

Nothing broke beyond

a farmer’s ability to repair.

So maybe I didn’t quit after

all except to quit expectations.


I quit. For a few minutes is all.

Quit with the quitting again.

I quit sometimes but never

for very long. Just not wired

that way us farm folks. Just not.


It was NOT a fun day – batteries dead, water frozen, cows being cows at their most clumsy and stupid, horses being a royal pain and yet at the end of the day we are all okay. A bit tired, battered and some are bloodied.  If someone had shown up with a trailer and cash maybe I would have quit, but they didn’t so we carry on. Again. Still.