Shootin' the Breeze

and random targets

Four Eagles

I’ve got poetry in me
Sometimes
Sometimes, like after a foot of snow,
Followed by sub-zero temperatures,
Requires me to walk to the barn
And I want to describe what I see
And how I feel.
At such a time, like today,
Frost forms on my mustache
From breathing cold air
And the breath of the horses is visible
For the same reason.
I like the smell of the hay in the barn.
I like the smell of the horses’ coats of hair
And their breaths of alfalfa.
Coming back inside
The house welcomes me
With warmth and the beauty of flames
Visible through the glass front
Of the wood-burning stove.
Today, my lovely wife had soup cooking
Which smelled better than alfalfa even.
Then she showed me the photo she took
Of four eagles in the same tree.
Don’t you wish you were here?

IMG_0561.JPG

 

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7 thoughts on “Four Eagles

  1. A cowboy poet, and I liked it! My father in law used to breed arabians, a horsey guy – you both would get along well.

  2. Good poem! No snow around these parts, nor eagles either…but I miss both now and then.

  3. bjthoms on said:

    Keep writing, Alan! And, yes, the picture is amazing!

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