An expanse of green
And brown beyond
Soon again to be green
Above
A sky
Promising the gift of rain
A smattering of structures
For shelter, work and storage
All to service the green
Occupants come and go
Seasons of family
And movement
Change
The cycle of life
Plays out in a rural field
Far from city markets
Gravel and dust and grain
Roads that go on forever
In the mountains
I feel diminutive
Until I climb
And conquer one
Stand on top of the world
What is there to conquer here
But a thousand miles
Of horizon
“Ahhh!”
He theatrically intones
Before another whistling breath
“Smell that fresh air!”
Musky dung beyond barbwire
Making us gag
As we pass his home
In a small development
Surrounded by farmer’s fields
“Mr. Abbott!” sang the chorus
Pix to Words 