Farm Life

We sat in the back of the pickup truck
Where the air felt crisp and cold and living;
At the top of the hill we jumped the gate–
The hinges groaned, but they stood forgiving
And the bull just grazed as we skirted by,
Not getting too close, just close enough
To leave some feed and a new salt lick
And a silly face, to prove we were tough.


My efforts weren’t enough
I should have asked for help
How could I possibly have thought
I could bolster this myself?

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Because Russ L asked

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