Meanwhile, back at the ranch…
mean dogs barking brightly
vertical tails give false messages
as faces are what they love to eat best –
mange ridden feline aids victim
one eye and broken teeth
missing fur patch
shows damaged skin
all that remains from the barn fire of ’96 –
stained overalls with a blown out crotch
hang, damp, over peeling and faded porch railings
one rusty nail working its way free
tip coated with skin residue and 3 blue denim strings
flies buzz absentmindedly –
from afar the high threatened clucking
of the last layer hen
moving across the dusty driveway
seems the weasels have gained coup access
soon, just a mass of bloodied feathers
and the foul stench of fowl blood
cooking in the early Fall
will be all that lives within –
wind gusts pick up unfastened composition shingles
sending them sailing through the air
landing gently in an overgrown garden area
free from weeding, seedlings, tending
or love –