Spring
Cowboys lift their moons to the sun,
bowlegged cowgirls red on the run
to ranchhands in the wet hay rolling
smokes and gunbarrel eyes.
After the horses are all fed,
the children washed and put to bed
cold is the blue bell wind
through the cherry wood felled,
heavy and breathless as steam.
words © 2000 Brock Bowman
image © 2000 Jon Reischl