WINTER-PINK

Thought I heard my cow tonight. At one point thought I heard kittens, too. Gus and I were cutting sage for a homegrown potato soup when the worrisome sound of unattended young froze us both. Thank the lusty farm heavens it was only a couple of well-known pullets, wild hatched by a hen months ago. Mmm..but don't you never know. Barns warmed by huddlings of farm animals have quite the draw for stray mothers. Like I said though, just a few pullets mewling about the impending winter. (Boy has the temperature dropped.)

Back to that good cow though. I thought I heard her bellow tonight and for a second I was running to put boots on, worrying about the manner of high jinks I would find her in. Quick as I stepped to the front door though I remembered. Not our cow, not anybody's cow. (At least not on this mortal plane.)

Was struck by the winter-pink sky under which we clipped herbs tonight and how seasons keep rolling, no matter where your heart's stuck grieving. Tried to find it more meaningful than cruel. (I don't really feel like saying more so I'm not going to.) (I think I've got the right.)