Silky Silence

You’ve hardly known a sensation of silk-ness

Like a glassy stump-touch while the cattle 'moothe'

The rough tree edges burnished brassy by asphalt hides

While the cold wind blows dry snow-dust clouds like summer road work

And the rancher calls like a ball-game vendor

While the ambling cattle disrupt the pond-still snow to approach the voice

Which echoes over the white landscape like a pigeon's wings in a snowy park

You’ve hardly known a sensation of silence

Like the 'moothing' of the cattle in the windy winter

Their asphalt hides marked with lane-lines of snow

While soft-round mouths mutter out puffs like factory smoke

And a bull bellows like a car alarm

While the fire-engine ford lays out an oversized sod-roll of hay

Which the cattle flock to like black pigeons on a spread of seed

You‘ve hardly known the silk-ness of silence

Like the quiet snow beneath the 'moothing' of the cattle

Brown gutter-ruts of hoofprints lined with hay

While white wedding cake hills watch over like bakery window shows

And a cow cuds its meal like a chewing-gum child

While the rancher stands near the polished stump and feels the texture

which the cattle rubbed glossy like a polished bowling Lane

You’ve hardly known a silence so silky

Like the "moothing" of the cattle in the silent snow

Their asphalt hides cobbled together on the winter range

While the ashy snow falls faintly like park leaves in autumn

And a glassy texture like cold marble at the finger tips

Though the world rubs rough with gutter-rut bellows and asphalt wings,

The hide-hard buffing gives this tree-stump life a silence as smooth as silk.