Old 439
Douglas Polk
cow with ear tag 439,
ought read 666,
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Greeting the Day
Douglas Polk
slipping out the door into the morning darkness,
the day begins,
whistling as I open the corral gate,
silhouettes appear on the hill overlooking the house,
in the barn,
the lights turned on,
and oats dumped into the trough,
running the length of the stalls,
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The Monument
Douglas Polk
the fence line straight,
the barbed wire strung tight,
a monument to the life,
the old man lived,
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The Bookkeeper
Douglas Polk
the books of the operation,
kept on the wall of the barn,
by the doctoring stall,
with a stub nosed pencil,
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Prairie Flower
Douglas Polk
ball cap on her head,
pigtails out the back,
jeans tucked into boots,
caked with mud,
sexy,
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A Different Age
Douglas Polk
Domino,
Grandpa's prized bull,
would do anything for a bit of cake,
during winter feedings,
my brother broke him to ride,
Dad raised hell about that,
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Hero
Douglas Polk
smelling of tobacco,
he always rolls his own,
don't trust store bought smokes,
or idiots for that matter,
asked for advice,
his expression never changes,
only his eyes,
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Haying Time
Douglas Polk
down from the hills,
haying time here,
sickles sharpened,
roll out the old John Deeres,
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Summer Time Fun
Douglas Polk
been fixing fence,
but the wind won't blow,
the sand still bakes,
jeans and skin,
creosote caked,
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Old Charley
Douglas Polk
Old Charley was a plodder,
my brothers called him a plug,
but he was the horse to get,
when Dad wanted to get things done,
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Cowboy Chaps
Douglas Polk
a pair of cowboy chaps,
Grandpa gave to me,
bought for an uncle,
hardly worn,
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Fence Building
Douglas Polk
post holes dug,
ten paces apart,
dug deep,
to the top of the handles of the diggers,
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The Ranch Pickup
Douglas Polk
the old ranch pickup went up for sale today,
wish it could have retired behind the barn,
and only driven when the grandkids visited for the summer,
but times are just too hard,
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Two Poems by Douglas Polk
Misunderstood
Douglas Polk
the daughter home from college,
with her new beau,
came to talk of the future,
_________
Gates
Grandpa and I would salt and cake,
he'd drive the pickup,
I'd get the gates,
my older brothers thought I a fool,
getting gate after gate,
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The Dreamer
Douglas Polk
the coffee hairy,
Curly must have just added another cup of grounds,
to the already potent brew,
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Ms. Patches
Douglas Polk
riding through the pasture,
she looks up to me,
with "please" in her eyes,
she'd have these cattle lined out,
and ready to trail,
if I would just say the word,
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The Rancher's Wife
Douglas Polk
her eyes have a faraway look,
as if comfortable looking to the horizon,
and open spaces,
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Old Hands
Douglas Polk
the old cowboy at the end of the bar,
talked with his hands,
when he set his beer down,
his hands would dance,
as he told his story,
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Douglas Polk
the daughter home from college,
with her new beau,
came to talk of the future,
the ranch no longer wanted,
or valued,
Gates
Grandpa and I would salt and cake,
he'd drive the pickup,
I'd get the gates,
Two Poems by Douglas Polk
Casey
Douglas Polk
Casey munches his oats,
as I curry his coat,
removing the halter,
I fit the hackamore into place,
Sale Day
Douglas Polk
cattle in the coral,
ready when the trucks arrive,
up the chute and out of our lives,
Sale day today,
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Two poems for your perusal by
Douglas Polk
The Weekend
Doug Polk
rodeo and dance the broad sheet read,
when the sleepy little town grows to three times its size,
but only for the weekend,
cowboys bored and hoping for glory,
come to town for the rodeo,
Daydreams
Doug Polk
stock tank empty,
the windmill still,
pumpjack broke,
and the wind won't blow,
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The Second Hand Horse
Douglas Polk
First day I rode him,
fell in love,
the gent had him saddled and ready to go,
when I pulled into the yard,
rode that beast all day long,
seemed a steal,
loaded in my horse trailer,
bought and paid for,
and on the way home,
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The Roundup
Douglas Polk
cows bawl,
the Apocalypse finally here,
cows and calves separated and sorted,
decisions made for the coming year,
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Spring
Douglas Polk
Spring is here,
with fences to repair,
damaged by winter drifts,
needing to be stretched and spliced,
tiedowns to be dug,
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Calving Time
Douglas Polk
The cold bites into face and hands,
my horse stomps his impatience,
while the heavys counted and identified,
two missing means this ride not quite over,
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Two by Douglas Polk
An Old Hand
Douglas Polk
He expresses more with a look,
than words could ever say,
No Water
Douglas Polk
No wind today,
the horses to saddle,
no water for either,
I or the cattle,
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