Tended.

 

 

Tended.

 

In fast- dying moments dusk crept 
from haziness making the sky's
veils into buttery bands 
as end-of-day yellowness swept 
over farmstead horizon.

 

Cows in low meadow dun-dappled 
by shadows, chewing last cud, 
trundled along, milk-laden
as pail-in-hand maiden tackled 
trudge to creamy arrival.

 

Captured the answer to mood
of languor that follows slow
plod of satisfied hoofsteps
when night casts welcome hood
over tended assignments.