Winter Winds
Winter winds blow hard across the cold, hard scab
Whistling softly, rustling in barren sage.
Snow builds, blowing white, in the channel land
Covering finally, for a time, the bitter, dirty sand.
Basalt rock squares lie scattered like forgotten
Black bones among the blue-gray of the sage.
Deep ruts still show where once
Crovers guided their horse-drawn stage.
Once home to bison, deer and grouse
Now, fenced for cattle ranch,
The land seems to moan in bitter wind
As coyote silently seeks a winter lunch.
The sharp yipping tells of a fox, sighting
Obscured mouse, hoping to find grain.
Above, the small hawk circles round,
Hoping for a meal in vain.
Whistling softly, rustling in barren sage.
Snow builds, blowing white, in the channel land
Covering finally, for a time, the bitter, dirty sand.
Basalt rock squares lie scattered like forgotten
Black bones among the blue-gray of the sage.
Deep ruts still show where once
Crovers guided their horse-drawn stage.
Once home to bison, deer and grouse
Now, fenced for cattle ranch,
The land seems to moan in bitter wind
As coyote silently seeks a winter lunch.
The sharp yipping tells of a fox, sighting
Obscured mouse, hoping to find grain.
Above, the small hawk circles round,
Hoping for a meal in vain.
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