Herefords lying down,
asses to the wind – this bodes of rain.
Cloud gray and anvil,
clobber shot and some ways off,
a cliff falls precipitous.
There’s manure in the air
because it’s November
and the harvest is in.
There’s manure in the air
for the fields need a feed
before snow tangles the greeds
of Autumn, and the Aberdeens
crush stubble leeward,
beyond the spruce breaks.
And there, atop a shaved hill,
a misthrown cone of gold,
shoveled by the shade hands
of gamblers in the shit winds
jangle in a pickup.
Image: Luca Basili on Unsplash
Sweet and Bitter Greens 
A real treat as always! I can’t get my wordpress poems to load onto Facebook. Any ideas?
Thanks Ray. I can’t either so I copy paste the URL into facebook. I know David has the technical savvy to get it to work though, that is to get the text to appear. All the best! D
I met David today and he spent time linking WordPress to Facebook with ease and assurance ! The guvnor…..
Oh yes, “The Guvna” – David’s got his bull gang name now!
D
Great poem Devon. John
Thank you, John.
D