The clock reads four AM,
Rubber boots set by the door.
Coffee, the only prelude to
Silent feet upon the floor.

Outside, silos, concrete monuments
Stretch toward reddened sky.
Security lights begin to dim
As cattle groan and blow nearby.

The day, now placid and calm
Will soon erupt into song.
A tune played over and over
On days that are hot or cold and long.

Then the serenity is ruptured
By vacuum pumps, bawling calves and coughing.
Each "old friend" communicates by
Standing still, swishing tail or stomping.

Summer days filled with seed,
Fertilizer, diesel fuel, sweat and dust.
Filled with paper work, silage,
Tractors, hay and sometimes disgust.

Wintertime is dark, long and cold.
Its drop cords, starting fluid and ice.
There's frozen pipes, swollen udders,
Mud and darting, big eyed field mice.

Yet, thank God, there's peace,
Purpose and eating out on Friday night.
Church, little league, friends
And baby calves-what a sight!

A wholesome life of rook parties,
Neighbors and cokes at country stores,
Seminars, deer and quail and
Short vacations on distant shores.

Now the clock reads 10 PM,
Rubber boots set by the door.
Only two things that can be heard-
An I love you, and a snore.

-Billy Joe Fudge-