Buffalo Bill's

Buffalo Bill's
defunct
      who used to
      ride a water-smooth silver
                                               stallion
and break onetwothreefourfive pigeonsjustlikethat
                                                                                 Jesus
he was a handsome man
                                       and what I want to know is
how do you like your blueyed boy
Mister Death?

-e.e. cummings

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A short sentence paints a black and white illustration.

Battle on the High Deserts

A lonely soldier stumbled through the desert. His parched throat held him silent. His shrunken stomach told of the last meal he'd had. He was camped near a massive boulder which provided some shade. That is for him and, "the boys", his fellow soldiers who had borne the suffering of heat and famished bellies with him. They had travelled many miles through this lonely dessert, with no sign of life, save for one chameleon. After dinner that night the boys decided their was certainly no substinence in chameleons. Sleeping in the heat of the desert sands proved a trifle uncomfortable; all the modern conveniences of home gone.
                            By morn the sun reflected off the shining sands, creating an explicable heat. But alas the poor heat-stricken soldiers stumbled on watching the sun skirt the hill and eddy upward. They were all beat.

A Yarn and the Skipper

A yarn and a skipper
went to sea
to see what was to be seen
the skipper was brave but the yarn rolled away
that curious yarn of the sea.

Falling into Winter

The leaves flutter in the
wind.
The wind bites my bare nose
and travels down my back
causing my hairs to stand on end.
Crickets are chirping
out their eulogies
in the graveyard.
The grass is dry
but its master, the earth,
is frigid.
A few lions piously poke their heads up from the grass,
they have little roar.

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Farmer.Writer.Goodlife: A New Rhythm: College started and I was afraid. It is a whole different world, a lot of friends I have made. All summer I hit the grindstone studious ...

Farmer.Writer.Goodlife: Natures Orchestra

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Canello

The gurgling highway twists and bends,
above a washerwomen shakes a tattered rug
out of the top window.
Customers scramble to get the winning lottery ticket, hopeful.
Hopeful for a new car, maybe a break from work or a new apartment.  

Chimneys rise above drifting black ash
staining the deep blue sky.
Puffs of cloud drift listlessly 
above.
A red cloaked hunchback 
hobbles through the vendors wares.