In sleep, I drift through unfamiliar landscapes, scanning rock formations for other signs of life, feeling like a space traveller, far from green fields and horizons lined with oak and birch.
In the distance, a cow is screaming across the arroyo. Its powerful anguish metamorphoses into a dust devil, a column of sand towering above rocks and giant cacti. It whips me into its arms and spins me into the arroyo. My feet barely skim the surface of the dried-out riverbed, wide as a small town and deeper than my dream.
On the other side, the cow is caught in a tangle of roots. a gnarly grip on the cow’s spindly legs. Its eyes flash acknowledgement, then turn dull as it writhes in pain. I reach for it with both hands, grasp its neck and tug.
I wake up in a desperate quilted embrace.
Kim M. Russell, 9th December 2019
My response to dVerse Poets Pub Prosery: Jim Harrison
Linda is our host for this Monday’s Prosery, the seventh, and she has given us a line from Jim Harrison’s poem ‘Cow’: “A cow is screaming across the arroyo.” I had to look up the word ‘arroyo’. Tricky!