Old Cow Dog's Winter
November
11/25
Steady rain soaks the gray morning,
Its white curtain all but hiding nearer hills.
A chicken scolds old Cookie
To make room in that doghouse,
So much warmer than the nest across the yard.
Wind chime marks dawn’s passing.
Two male robins strut foolishly in the yard,
Preening for mates long gone south.
One sick fawn shows herself in my noon garden:
The laggards of the season,
Given a reprieve that ends today.
11/26: First Snow
Skiff of snow across the yard;
Broken clouds hang low and high.
Across the valley, the sun burns one blue patch
Above the storm’s roiling remnants.
11/27: Seventeen degrees
Pearly light infuses dawn’s gray cloud bank
Coyote lopes across the yard
Scattering fawns and pheasant.
Does gather to face him.
Dark shapes fade into red willow thicket.
11/28: Shipping
Chicken clucks annoyingly
At doghouse entrance:
Old cow dog’s gone early.
Heifers rumble on
To rickety old scale.
She crouches, ready.
Bleeding from her gums,
Cheekbone flowers bright red too:
Calves too fast these days.
11/30
Her boy’s long gone,
But the work remains to do.
She teaches me strength.
Stay here. Guard the house.
Help when there is work to do.
Die with your boots on.
So go ahead, chicken.
Lay your egg on yellow straw:
She'll be home tonight.