That would be our brand
If we ranched, if words
Had cows. One Slash F
Brand, scarred on the hide.
You’d know cows were ours.
Through our flat green fields
And up our steep slopes
Of brush cows would browse.
The hum of the tires
Of trucks down the road,
The rare shrieks of trains
With full loads of freight
Would not faze our cows
Plumped on grass and cud.
Life eats. It goes on.
We’d work 1/f
In steel on our gates.
You’d know, back of those,
That words owned the rest
Of what you saw fenced.
We’d tune to the land
As ranch hands. We’d work
Dusk to dusk. Birds sleep
More than us. You rest,
We’d say. We’ve got this.
Thursday, February 11, 2021
One Slash F
