Red Angus Sunset

To say we were novice when a trailer pulled to the barn.
Is an understatement, we couldn’t tell tail from horn.

Red Angus don’t have horns, and that’s a good thing.
Cuz, this farm lacks that type of hay feeding ring

There was one cow in the herd that stood out from the rest.
The seller had said that she was the best.

With a 1- 4-7 displayed on her tag.
We called her “The Boss”. She was far from a nag.

The unspoken leader, took the girls everywhere.
A good Angus mom, with dark scarlet hair.

They all came with spring calves standing strong at their side.
They weaned on arrival. “The Boss” not leaving her pride.

When she finally did wander, she returned every day.
To make sure her calf was doing OK.

 That calf’s face was compact, very hairy you know.
It’s for that funny reason Mom named her “Ringo.”

“Ringo” threw “Tate”, our weed eating queen.
She keeps every fence row, trimmed short and clean.

Over a decade has past, and one could still see
‘The Boss’ and ‘Ringo’ together under a tree.

Not the lead cow at present, “Tate’s” taken her place.
“The Boss” slipped last week. Winter’s mud stole her grace.

She’s up in the barn and moving real slow.
Letting us scratch on her neck….not her M-O.

She’s never been open. A great teacher to all.
Fed at the barn yesterday, the herd came up to bawl.

“The Boss” needs improve, or pass on her own.
Living out the days with her offspring at home.

Most say not to name cows, and this is just why.
We’re not sending her off. This farm’s where she’ll die.

The evening was gorgeous, as sycamores climbed,
into a blue sky, with clouds intertwined.

The three-year-old boy, led the way up the hill.
A tad bit of coaxing, but we made it there still.

A January sunset lit hardwoods afire.
But, when we got to the barn the evening turned dire.

She was down on the ground, neck under a panel.
Boy watched as I tapped, my Wonder Woman channel.

The gate was swung open, the herd all around.
Vet emergency now, returned home in a bound.

Quick dinner, some phone calls, back up to the barn.
“The Boss” still being down, left a feeling of scorn.

​Mom and Dad were there now, and we worked as a team.
To move her around, and set her fire agleam.

We did a good job, we got her to drink.
To sit up on her sternum, and maybe to think.

It’s not really the place, that one wants to be.
But, for a farm boy, better than watching TV.

Not sure at this moment what sunrise will hold.
Hope it’s burning scarlet red, with off-shoots of gold.