Vintage Poetry- Strung Out

Simple, gorgeous language that made me think of home. Enjoy!

Strung Out
by Francie Davis, Belvidere

As the sun shines painfully against
the miles upon miles of drifted snow,
the cattle are strung out
one after the other
moving eastward single file
eighty-two marching purposefully
big black snow-capped boulders
blowing exhaust through frosted nostrils
parting the powder like the Red Sea-­moving.
marching. blowing. parting.
one after the other after the other
in spite of or because the sun is shining,
or it is eight degrees below zero,
or one big brockle-faced cow turned
and took that first step away from the herd …

57521
by Francie Davis, Belvidere
This town is simple:
one church, one bar, gazebo,
nine kids, gravel streets,
dogs, cats,
goats.
Cowboys, honey bees,
volunteer fire department,
falling down buildings
all hum
“go”.
So I cut and burn
and clean and paint and plant dreams;
leaving something here
behind
me.

From Pasque Petals
Vol. 85, no. 1
Autumn 2010

Featured image by Carl Thomasson under the creative commons license on Flickr.

1 thought on “Vintage Poetry- Strung Out”

  1. What a surprise to find some of my poems featured!!! Thank you! I am living just outside Rapid City now, but still get back to the ranch at Belvidere as often as possible.

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