yuck-a-muck

De at dVerse asked for this when she suggested a quadrille about “yuck”!


 

you may not be a fan-ure
because it stinks like sin
but maybe it’s called “man-ure”
‘cause men keep falling in!

if you come visit our farm
be sure to bring your boots
remember here in cow town
“bull sh__” has rural roots!

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word of the day

 

 

 

 

prospero ano

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Image

make hay, as they say

 

Today, Boncho’s haiku (below) inspired mine. The smell of cut alfalfa is a wonderful aroma! Another season of haying will soon begin with our first cutting here in Iowa. It’s pleasant to drive tractor for baling hay, if not too windy and dusty.

 

farmer works up sweat

bales hay on summer evening

to feed hungry cows

-lynn

how cool cut hay smells

when carried through the farm gate

as the sun comes up!

-Boncho

 

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photo by lynn

 

Nozawa Boncho was a Japanese poet born c.1640. He spent most of his life  working as a doctor in Kyoto. Boncho was one of Matsuo Bashō’s followers and wrote many famous haiku in his day. This is my response to Carpe Diem Haiku Kai: Utabukuro.

grey dey

 

Taste this fog,

stir like pea soup;

thick, steamy, heady

moist air presses.

 

Watercolor of wet

still-life landscape,

paint no background;

grey droplets spatter.

 

Pickup headlights

float, pierce the misty

curtain as eery shapes

of cow ghosts appear.

 

what DO cows do?

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what do cows do?

cows chew
cows moo
cows poo

cows munch
cows lunch
cows crunch

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photos by lynn

cows hay
cows lay
cows may

all day.

going postal in deep freeze

 

clinging to mail with both hands

in the face of a whipping wind,

 

i trek down long gravel driveway

making heavy footprints in snow.

 

my body is wrapped in layers

with only squinting eyes exposed.

 

mitten tugs on stiff metal door;

it opens with protesting creak

to accept offering of bills paid.

 

i brush out powder blown in,

make a careful deposit, slam

door and set red flag upright.

 

mailbox swings from its chains;

wind stronger, colder at roadside.

 

snow-dusted cows watch

curiously as i trundle back to

farmhouse, leaving fresh tracks.

 

later today, i will dress again

to repeat the ritual, hoping for

a handwritten envelope hidden

between all the advertisements!