Dry Hills and Wet Memories

There was reward in cattle, sure—
but plenty enough to irk a body too.
Riding herd, chasing strays,
pulling calves in the dark,
keeping the wolves from turning bold.

Still, Ada reckoned it was better here—
these dry hills of New Mexico,
where the sun was honest and the ground stayed put.
Back home in Louisiana,
the land rose up wet beneath your boots.
The farm wa…