In the Smell of August Pasture


In the Smell of August Pasture

Fresh mowed hay lay in rows and rows,
listening to the stars reciting the poems,

reminding the journey still ahead;
help scent the world-pain-ridden air.

The perfume; the old cowboy’s first love;
his bone, skin, and soul.

In the smell, he finds her image, breath, and smile.

©Byung A. Fallgren

4 thoughts on “In the Smell of August Pasture

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in: Logo

You are commenting using your account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )

Connecting to %s

This site uses Akismet to reduce spam. Learn how your comment data is processed.