The last cow is leaving, the herd is moving on
The pastures and meadows will not remain for long.
The last cow is leaving and sighs and lumbers on.

The last cow is leaving where my children used to play
Amongst the scents of summer on a hot sunny day.
The field mice and the rabbits all will have to move away.

The last cow is leaving, for man will live here soon
And bricks and concrete will replace the land I gaze upon.
No call of owl or crow we'll hear, there'll be a different tune.

The last cow is leaving and the farmer shuts the gate
The deed is done the plans been made, this place must meet its fate
And as the sun is sinking I fear it's getting late.

She was
footprints traced in sandy waters
sunflower fields
bloomed in thorns
thunderstorms swept
in salty air
Her spirit twinkled
of northern lights
flirting with a million acres
of honeydew blossoms
She was
the magic
that he adored

Fallow;
ice scarred and sun scorched,
untilled and untillable,
thrush, worn, and wasted

Bones of the land,
grow inward from the shore

White coral sand blossoms
and burns at the edges;
dry, blasted

our broken lands

Smiling softly at you,
Because you make me happy,
Laughing with you in the limber afternoon,
My deep dimples,
Enough to make you tumble and tumble again,
You grab my hand, grazing my ring,
And lead me through the flowers,
Our touch as meshed as cotton in my hair,
You’re whistling through the weeds,
A thousand thorns,
Spill off my shoulder,
Scoop the ground,
We walk and dandelions surround us
Naturally

On the side of the path where overhead
treetops meet to tickle
each other, the roots
from two trees are knotted
together.

Meet me by that knot.
Kiss me like you said
you would.