Stand back a ways from the fence.
A little safer than crowding up, and you can see better from here. You get the picture of the living creature as it sits in quiet comfort in the tall grass, enjoying the time not working.
The shoulders are arched and there is a certain amount of rust upon its skin. It is an older one, you can tell by the cracks and peels of the rubber-round feet, and how it sits there, resting from work. The colors are burnished reds and dirty white, with even faded blacks.
Yes, you can smell it there, a little oil dripping down its rusted frame, a scent of rust and fresh green grass growing up between the feet, soon to take over the whole body, but listen; listen quietly and you can hear it breathing, each moment of life runs again and again through dreams.
It is pining once again for flat ground, no muddy fields, fresh air to keep breathing, and the gentle but firm hands that were led across the growth of many years of family home.
Ralph E Peck
photo by Ralph Peck
A little outside of Justice, Oklahoma down by Hooty Creek
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