Building barbed wire -- still bent and bowed at sundown --
an existential thing for any cowboy.
Tapping staples solemnly in the bosom
of a corner post -- grounded in good known earth.
The boy embraces his beautiful pole and
carefully adorns her with a wire necklace.
He stretches her tenderly, drawing her taut
unto himself, until they are together.
Splashing leftover water from a plastic
jug to satisfy a grateful upturned face,
Pissing in the open pasture -- his field,
his place -- nothing really feels better,
Glancing over a stooped and sun-burned shoulder
he reassures a tenuous homeward walk.