Colors
.
waist deep
in wrinkled fabric
we see Peggy’s cow
slowly wading through colors
shaded by late-hour daylight
the air becoming thickly visible
fence lines just blur
hissing crickets whirl
sounds like boomerangs
fast echoing threads
dancing interwoven beats
sight unseen
playing havoc with the fade
blues and greens
merge between steps
as reality emerges
in the dust
settling
on its brow
.
.
Relative Something 
I guess I don’t know Peggie’s cow, specifically, but I do catch your drift – cattle take us back to the beginning of time and even the initiation of language – maybe the bellow of the old bull in the valley, gave us our beginnings and the letter ‘b’ or could it have been the cow and ma or ‘M’… mother according to Hindi thought. I don’t know but feel a closeness to these animals and all they have meant (or mean) for us. Love to see them grazing and experience the extended happiness that implies. Long live Peggie’s cow!
Ian Rowcliffe
March 11, 2023 at 10:09 am
Seems like you know Peggy’s cow petty well, actually. 🙂 I love you, Ian!
johnwhays
March 12, 2023 at 6:44 am