Spring In South East Montana

Spring in South East Montana

I step outside

to first hear the low calling of a mama,

seeking out her gamboling calf

among all the others

he knows her voice;

they will find each other, satisfied for now.

Continuing onward toward a daily rite

I take my time walking slowly to the horses

the wind caressing tall stems of dried prairie blue,

the sun sending morning heat in bursts

through rolling wooly down clouds

navigating the spanning Montana sky.

Another species calls once - "CRANK!"

I turn and look;

its the cock pheasant

looking for love in creek bottoms deep

as I wait, he waits; will she appear?

Ah, there she is, strutting her run to her man.

Then the symphony of the Redwings begins

I forgot to fill the feeder with seed

they sing drawn out trills of protest

reminding me, and each other

of their recent hard times

surviving waters from north to south, and back again.

Impatient horses nicker loudly

snapping me out of my concert concentration

As I dole out their feed in flat round pans,

they watch intently each shiny grain

making sure that their master

does not take favorites this morning.

With chores finished, I take time to sit

on clinker rock overlooking the hayfields

The red shouldered hawk lazily flies circles

calling to his mate, once, twice, three times

Is it "good morning, my love!" or "I miss you!", or

did he find breakfast in those small short swords of green?

Next to me, I suddenly feel

a cloak of warmth pressing against my side

My beloved has joined me in the sun

We sit together, quietly absorbing

our surrounding world of natural awe;

A new Spring never gets old.

 j.l. Grinyer "Spring in South East Montana"








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