THE FARM, THE RANCH
AND THE SWEEPING SCYTHE
Sunrise can be brilly bright
and all day long
everything out to get you
The horse can kick or fall
the bull has horns of steel
Every machine is grinding its teeth
in wait for a chance to bite
and every snowstorm
eager to find you
too far from the barn
and stiffen you like the manure-pile cat
The sunsets worth surviving for