Companion

Eyes the color of rootbeer flavored hard candy watch as the full-grown nest of wild turkeys, nine proud, weaves through dying grass. The early nights toads are still in hiding, possibly to his relief, as even an inquisitive horse has little to do with a grain bucket filled with curiosity and amphibians by a frog loving soul. Four legs may not cover continents well, but our six have done us fine. With better stride he carries me - into the winding cattle filled canyon at the foot of the Sierra’s, among the tortured Joshua tree’s of the Mojave, and the black-berry brambled hills along the Columbia. We are constant for each other, amidst the changing scenery. His deep set eyes look to me with a question, a gentle investigation by warm nostrils adds emphasis. “I’m sorry, I forgot your carrots.” He replies with a sidelong glance of sorrel ears. Dismissive. As if to say he’d guessed as much. (9-3-03)