Ranching in Nebraska

Lightning flashes across the summer sky,

thunder booms a loud reply,

wind blows the rain sideways in the air,

the horses nervous, both foal and mare,

raindrops ice cold sting the face,

horseback in a thunderstorm,

not the brightest job, or place,

but the work don't stop with the rain,

cattle need moved, regardless of how difficult,

or crazy insane,

cowboying during a thunderstorm,

working in weather just part of the norm,

ranching in Nebraska.

___________

Detached

Value now placed on the new and unused,

conversations carried on in anonymity,

not face to face,

but text to text,

or tweet to tweet,

isolated and detached,

from reality,

and from history,

neither of which seem valued any longer,

Politicians ignore precedent,

while nations ignore common sense,

and past experience,

Detached and adrift in the universe,

the world in which I live.

___________

Tuesday

Life nothing more than a series of stops and starts,

jumbled and confused,

as if pages missing from the book,

or some dumb ass changed the sequence to screw with me,

difficult to find my place,

my own space.

The moment I do,

the space claimed by another,

lazy bastards,

as I find myself starting over and over again,

until the process of creation familiar,

like an old friend,

complaining,

the voice in my head berates me,

"hey dip shit,

don't have the balls to fight for what you create,

the courage to defend your very own space."

Courage not the question,

but more a question of rights,

Am I allowed to defend my creation,

when I feel no kinship,

no ownership at all?

The process not the product causes my heart to soar,

and my soul to burn red hot,

that moment in time I will defend to my last breath,

Thoughts on a Tuesday.