Monday, October 31, 2011

The Proving Grounds

(for Frank Ritcey)

Fastened to the ledges
with nothing at all,
the rams come to the grass
windswept and willing
for thunder and bone

There on the proving grounds,
a calculated hierarchy
of seed and fury, the world bends,
tilted and heaved
under the ecstasy of thrusts


  1. You captured the essence of the rut beautifully. I am always amazed at how your posts and the natural calendar are so entwined. Nature BC should have a poet laureate and it should be you.

  2. thanks for your kind words, Frank.