What Ails Us

By R.H. Booker

At dawn he walks through the pasture
the dog leading the way
stopping to sniff or mark–
his coat wet with dew
and burrs.
In the field the cows
graze with a morning 
purpose, chewing, walking.
And the man’s leg– limps along,
never faster than a hobble,
an offbeat rhythm of doubts
muffled by sunrise,
stopping to watch a
whitetail buck
jump over the fence
soundless,
limpless.

****

R.H. Booker graduated from Texas A&M and served as an infantry officer in the United States Marine Corps. He now spends his time outdoors as a wildlife biologist for the state. His poetry and prose have appeared in the San Antonio Review, Bramble, The Orchards Poetry Journal, and others. More at https://www.pw.org/directory/writers/rh_booker.