First cold rain in September,

Starts them old cows moving down,

In search of lower, warmer pastures,

Closer to the lights of town.

Those old cows can’t read a calendar,

Much less a grazing plan.

So as I march them up the hill,

I explain as best I can.

Summer isn’t over yet,

The sun will shine next week.

It is too early to end our game,

Of bovine hide and seek.

I hide the cattle in the hills,

From Spring to early Fall,

Then before the snow, gets too darn deep,

I try to find them all.

Mike Puhallo

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