Squat, flat-bottomed clouds
sat above grazing angus
whose black was stark
in the dusky light.
West the goldenrod
and milkweed tilted,
west the prairie rose,
placating the landscape.
Suddenly the sky
cracked, burst
into glint,
soothed the air,
carried the eye
back to the cattle, who shuffled
one against the other,
flank to flank,
freed then from flies,
from dust and itch,
and resumed
their archaic and staid grazing.