Morning shadows fall
on the white stable
of thoroughbreds waiting
for alfalfa
green and fragrant.
I lift the bales
And think of my grandfather
Feeding his cattle
Four decades ago,
And know
That I carry his blood
In my veins.
I hear
the munching,
grinding, contentment
of horses being fed.
I feel
the blood pumping
connection
of labor and sweat,
and providing for
these animals,
this hay.
I toss another flake,
and stand almost alone
in a flurry of floating green.
~Kathie Adams Brown
(September 11, 2000)
Happy Birthday Grandpa! I still miss you.
OSI Prompt 51: Spectral
