The grass and cows and wind
from the southwest
The grass and cows and wind from
the southwest
still cold around the hills blows
plastic bags
from distant roads into barbed
wire fence chest
high and a red tailed hawk flies
low and lags
a bit to watch the windmill creak
and shake
no longer pumping water its well
dry
the metal trough with bullet holes
a snake
may live there or may not but
there’s a thigh
bone of a cow or horse half buried
in
the dirt
a plane flies east the vapor trail
thin crossed with long thick
clouds
that start to drift
cows eat and shit the windmill
blades still spin
a wooden fence post falls with
rusty nails
the cows look up the wind begins
to shift
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