These guys have been circling around. Crossing pastures, head up, tail hanging low, trotting with their tongues bouncing along. Butt down, tails tucked, as they scritter across the highway. Evenings their calls echo up from the creek with their compatriots answering from the valley.
Read MoreStanding in the barn, looking out at the field, my arm pulled straight by my hand hooked under the pommel of my roping saddle. Geese fly, strung long against the grey blue clouds hanging heavy in the north. The sun sneaks out and warms my arm. The ground shakes beneath my feet as grain trucks rush by, fighting back the rain with their urgency.
It is all clarity.
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