Ranch Flowers

Piles of smooth grass

tower high into the sky

higher than my outstretched arms.

Dust tangled in the horse’s mane

and the toes

of my new blue shoes are smeared

with the purple of petals

I crushed, in passing.

And the tall men all wear those big hats

those big, silvery belt buckles.

And mustaches are bigger

on the sides than in the middle

And their wives are tough

in plaid shirts

salted with dirt

also wearing those big hats.

It’s Paso Robles

green, wide and soaring

And the warm, thick air

is putting me to sleep.