Today's Poem: "A Riddle"

A Riddle

On this afternoon,

with the black dog
in the back pasture and
the winter day warm enough
that you know the worms are at work
beneath your feet,

smell the growing.


The dog pushes her nose,
and snuffles the grass furrows and tunnels
into the scampering paths
of the furry creatures,
she would catch
if she could.

The old farmer,
the tender of the pasture,
watches without worry.
Her own harvest is secure.

A red-tailed hawk
on a branch of the tree
can afford to be amused
by the useless.