(Headline In A Rocky Mountain Newspaper)
The sun’s so bronze off uncut clover hay
its glow diffuses the high altitude blue.
On mornings before the dew is dry,
migrating geese disappear into clumps of grass,
some lifting again long-necked from cool shadows.
Young deer nibble along ragged roads
stripping dried stalks of flowers.
Foxes loop the hill at their leisure,
peer down the slope of the rising meadow.
Elk with six-point racks, suddenly present,
herd cows in and out of groves of aspen
going gold to brown in a mix of evergreen.
After the first dusting of snow, surveyor’s stakes
marked with plastic red ribbons
will glitter here in tiny pieces of silver.