Larry Schug
An Old Barbed Wire Fence
having lost its twang,
thunks when plucked like the bass string
of a broken down bajo sexto,
too long forgotten in the attic.
Barely audible to the human ear,
you hear it more with your bones,
your gut, finally your heart
chanting Ommm in the monastery of your body.
Wind, browsing on the stubble of over-grazed prairie,
gone to sand and cholla and prickly pear,
claims the song as its own,
often singing it in the lowing of an old heifer
calling to its new-born calf,
warning of yodeling coyotes,
always hungry.
Bio
Larry Schug lives with his wife, dog and two cats in St. Wendel Twp., Minnesota and volunteers as a college writing tutor and as a naturalist. He's published eight books of poems and just finished a home made chapbook called "May This Day...". www.larryschugpoet.com