| Current Issue | Contents Page - This Issue | Editorial Staff | About This Journal | Submissions |
| Acceptance Criteria | Haibun Definitions | Articles | Archives | Search | Red Moon Press |

April 1, 2012 vol 8 no 1

| Contents | Next |

Glenn G. Coats

Numbers on a Mailbox

The house is not far from the highway. Take a right past Bob's Service Station; follow Orchard Road then take a right on Sandy River. Their place is first one on the left.

He bought the calves (white-faced Herefords) after he retired. Thought he could earn some extra money. They grazed the wide pastures and in the winter he threw bales of hay over the fence.

Wife fell in love with those calves. She would sing and they crossed the fields to find her. Fed them handfuls of hay and stroked their heads. "Eyes soft as ponds," she told her husband.

When the cows were big enough and ready for auction, the wife paid top dollar for the bunch. Most of them lived long lives.

Fences are gone now and a farmer from down the road cuts the fields for hay. Keeps the place looking nice. She had a voice, sweet and high, almost sang like a bird.

dry leaves
roads that come
to an end