#ranching - Hello Poetry

I aint no ***** I aint no tinker; like a tinker would think. Im just an old cow poke with no leather to sink my teeth. Been riding for days aint came across the first drop to drink. Sure is nice of you mam to let me in by the smell of my stink. You see; I lost my cattle about a few miles back. We got seperated by a sand storm. Boy this coffee is about as thick a pinewood sap. Mam, please dont take offense; I sure do appreciate the gesture. I suppose a cool glass a water might do the trick. Now as I was saying, I was on my way up from Wyoming to drive a herd for a bargain. Well I guess I would say I got started early this morning. I got me a ranch out in Laramie. Well actually a buddy of mine does. We started up and then it began storming. I haven’t seen him since. Mam could you do me a favor if he does. If he shows up; could you tell him I have gone to gather up them horses. Could you ask if he could stick around, what matters is that we’re safe and that’s important. We can regroup in a couple of hours. Head on back on up the trek, make up for lost time and try to save our appointment. If that ain’t no burden to you misses? -RSC

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Mar 8, 2022

Mar 8, 2022 at 7:23 AM UTC

BlackHat

🤠Up from Laramie 🐄🐄

I aint no ***** I aint no tinker; like a tinker would think. Im just an old cow poke with no leather to sink my teeth. Been riding for days aint came across the first drop to drink. Sure is nice of you mam to let me in by the smell of my stink. You see; I lost my cattle about a few miles back. We got seperated by a sand storm. Boy this coffee is about as thick a pinewood sap. Mam, please dont take offense; I sure do appreciate the gesture. I suppose a cool glass a water might do the trick. Now as I was saying, I was on my way up from Wyoming to drive a herd for a bargain. Well I guess I would say I got started early this morning. I got me a ranch out in Laramie. Well actually a buddy of mine does. We started up and then it began storming. I haven’t seen him since. Mam could you do me a favor if he does. If he shows up; could you tell him I have gone to gather up them horses. Could you ask if he could stick around, what matters is that we’re safe and that’s important. We can regroup in a couple of hours. Head on back on up the trek, make up for lost time and try to save our appointment. If that ain’t no burden to you misses? -RSC

7

many of his posts tilted like trees tired of the wind; wires sagged, red rusted, but still jabbed the errant cow when duty called three quarters a century he rode the same trail; of late, he had gone afoot, the saddle too heavy for him to heft walking, he reconnoitered the tracks with more care--hooves of his myriad steers, a few equine signs of the farrier’s labor still there, fast fading his boot prints were more numerous now, and sometimes tamped down by the few beasts left in his herd across the line lay his dead neighbor’s pastures, peppered with mesquite, pocked by fire ant holes; no livestock grazed, but the giant turbines whined, white whipsaws slashing not timber, but blue sky driven by the relentless winds, they called to him, in chanted chorus, issuing a premonition: one day soon, your fence will fall, and the path you trod will bear no new tracks for other souls to read

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Apr 24, 2016

Apr 24, 2016 at 10:40 PM UTC

spysgrandson

along the fence lines

many of his posts tilted like trees tired of the wind; wires sagged, red rusted, but still jabbed the errant cow when duty called three quarters a century he rode the same trail; of late, he had gone afoot, the saddle too heavy for him to heft walking, he reconnoitered the tracks with more care--hooves of his myriad steers, a few equine signs of the farrier’s labor still there, fast fading his boot prints were more numerous now, and sometimes tamped down by the few beasts left in his herd across the line lay his dead neighbor’s pastures, peppered with mesquite, pocked by fire ant holes; no livestock grazed, but the giant turbines whined, white whipsaws slashing not timber, but blue sky driven by the relentless winds, they called to him, in chanted chorus, issuing a premonition: one day soon, your fence will fall, and the path you trod will bear no new tracks for other souls to read

23

How does the rancher learn to dance The annual rhythms of the land? When do we bring the cows, bawling, From open summer to sheltered winter pastures? When is it time to bring the stubborn bulls To the empty, urgent cows, Or to remove them from contented cows, Grown placid in the heaviness of calves? How do we know the time To round up the sweltering herds, Bringing the bellering calves to brand? Or when do we cull the frightened heifers, Lucky in their selection, but uncertain? When should we pare the weanlings, And when call we the buyers? And, when is the time for hiking forty miles Of rusting fence, Replacing posts, Mending broken wire Before the changing of pastures? And when is the time to come to ease, To sense the satisfaction In seeing grazing cattle, Tails swishing away the black flies of June, Moving through gray-green prairie grass On their way to cool creek water?

0

Mar 31, 2016

Mar 31, 2016 at 8:29 AM UTC

don-bouchard

Finding Our Timing: Cows

How does the rancher learn to dance The annual rhythms of the land? When do we bring the cows, bawling, From open summer to sheltered winter pastures? When is it time to bring the stubborn bulls To the empty, urgent cows, Or to remove them from contented cows, Grown placid in the heaviness of calves? How do we know the time To round up the sweltering herds, Bringing the bellering calves to brand? Or when do we cull the frightened heifers, Lucky in their selection, but uncertain? When should we pare the weanlings, And when call we the buyers? And, when is the time for hiking forty miles Of rusting fence, Replacing posts, Mending broken wire Before the changing of pastures? And when is the time to come to ease, To sense the satisfaction In seeing grazing cattle, Tails swishing away the black flies of June, Moving through gray-green prairie grass On their way to cool creek water?

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