it’s too hot in Colorado this March
i spent most of the day slipping along pavement
on my motorized tricycle
wondering if the snow was already melted
on Long’s Peak and Twin Sisters.
i saw him by the auto parts store
a 100 year old farmer in blue bib overalls
in the surprisingly scalding noon sun
hunched over the engine of his matching ancient pickup
reminicent of my Nebraska uncles
with four giant pigs in the back bickering in straw.
it was a glorious blue sky,
first sunburn of the spring sort of day
i started to worry about the hogs towards 2:00.
and the farmer at 3:00.
it wasn’t until sunset
That a rig from Wyoming with young oilmen
stopped to help him
Finally, then I asked what I could do.
“The kids are mad at me!” He laughed
“they need water, soon!”
listless animals. Breathing shallowly.
their eyes crusting from thirst.
I could think of no remedy 3 blocks from home
with my tiny water bottle.
I twisted and and mourned in my sleep
i worried about him rattling along the dirt roads
toward Yuma and Wray. No food or water.
as he and his precious cargo despaired
in a land of plenty.
solutions and could-haves poured through
The cool dark of myopen window
Rich with odors of feedlots
and abundant too-soon pollinating vetch.