2 responses so far ↓

• 1 Gene Novo // May 24, 2008 at 6:29 am

  5 24 08 steamy and humid out there on another Bob Dylan birthday weekend, Dylan and the Nunnayerbizness writers, nice, inspiring … supreme beings, moons ….

  …and he’d been wanting to sell the seven red cattle, finally, and stick to pigs and chickens, much easier, and cheaper to feed …but the cattle are still around and hungry, and he not only wanting to sell, but also to get onto the golf course ….

  …so he herded the cattle out of his dry pasture, past his pig and chicken pens, across the driveway with its new cars and trucks, and then across the street to some uncut public grass on the side of the road …. …a pain, wasted time, but they have to eat, the grass is there …and maybe he’ll sell them next week ….

  …and while watching them munch, he swung a golf club, not a staff, maybe the first shepherd with a golf club, nice swing …and at the other end of the heads-down-and-eating cattle, his wife, leaning on a stick, not unusual, not a golf club ….

  “Pastor y Pastora”

  Eugene “Gene” Novogrodsky

  Brownsville

• 2 Kathy // May 24, 2008 at 11:02 am

  Jack,

  I like your poem. The steady rhythm and rhyme lend themselves to the life of a little child, and, yes, it is a different moon.

  Kathy

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