“Oh Jesus, give me strength to clean this floor,” she muttered, for what may well have been the millionth time in her seemingly miserable life.

The first job I ever held, when I was in my teens, was feeding cattle at the neighbors ranch.  The place was owned by two spinsters, a mother and daughter, and though the ranch had once thrived, by the time I was hired, the twenty odd head of cattle that lingered there had become more pets than livestock.

So, for a few dollars a day, I was more then happy to make the daily quarter-mile trek from our property to their feed barn.  There, I would climb up into the dark loft, break up bales of hay, and kick them down into the feed-trough below.  When the noise of impatient bellows was replaced by the steady crunch of contented chewing, I would slip down the…

I see you there.

From fog capped mountain peaks

Overlooking a busy ocean seaside

Where sheep graze along the hillsides

Between large, ancient stones

I see you there.

On that windy, black-paved road.

I can see you

Moving in that monstrous,

Lumbering, motorized wagon.

Inching upward towards the mountain top.

Towards me. Towards us.

You move closer

And pause in your thoughts

These peaks are shrouded from your eyes,

and yet I know you are squinting.

At that dark patch of fog?

Or perhaps a shape you thought,

a glimpse as you made your way

around a bend.

A wind blows the clouds

And those shapes shift

And you put it out of your mind

For a time.

Eventually your gaze finds its way

Back to the peaks

That are hidden from you.

I have waited. – We have waited.

For ages.

And you forgot us.

Forgot me.

We have…