DRY CRIK Journal

Topping-off the tank, six thousand gallons
set above the barn, troughs and our pickup
parked in an oak tree’s breeze, he suggests

that most people don’t know how to wait.
Twenty-five gallons per minute driven
by a generator, we swap a little gasoline

for a week of stockwater while we load
and feed hay three miles down the road –
and hurry back to keep from eroding

the mountain from its granite rocks,
we find this shade. Perhaps they wait
too long to go to bed and get up late –

and always late they never catch-up
and lose their minds along the way.
Alternately stealing glances uphill

between the Live Oaks, overflow pipe
empty, we light another cigarette to pursue
the practical balance of work with art.