Tended.
In fast- dying moments dusk crept
from haziness making the sky\'s
veils into buttery bands
as end-of-day yellowness swept
over farmstead horizon.
Cows in low meadow dun-dappled
by shadows, chewing last cud,
trundled along, milk-laden
as pail-in-hand maiden tackled
trudge to creamy arrival.
Captured the answer to mood
of languor that follows slow
plod of satisfied hoofsteps
when night casts welcome hood
over tended assignments.