Eight Miles Left (+1)

With ten more miles of wire
  my horse wants to turn back

There’s dark clouds over the mountain
  just a small tent in my sack

The fence line sits all busted
  from two bulls that went astray

They both missed being neutered
  last year on roundup day

My hands are cold and blistered
  that salve jar all but gone

Two wolves begin to howling
  that lonesome prairie song

The storm clouds now have thickened
  light pulls its covers back

Just one more night on the western slope
  —with eight miles left to track

(Villanova Pennsylvania: March, 2018)

  "From 'The Searching For Crazy Horse Collection'"

                        'Written In 2006'

 

 

My Back To The Light

 

All of my life,

 I’ve been trying to hide

Drifting untethered

 roaming inside

 

All of my life,

 I have chosen to wait

Judging unholy

 making mistakes

 

All of my life,

 my arms have been short

The reach much too long

 as failure reports

 

All of my life,

 the truth insecure

My back to the light

  —the present unsure

 

(Villanova Pennsylvania: April, 2014)