Just east of Wolf River,
a bit after the highway
begins its long slope down
and right before the last gravel
on this side of the ridge,
there’s a small pasture
on the hill
between the road and the gully.
.
The grass makes a smooth vee
leading down to the ditch,
incredibly green in the low sheen
of an overcast morning.
.
At its edge, a scruffy patch of sumac
throws a break of crimson,
edging the ragged bank.
A dozen shades of prairie grass
cast their colors
between the bare tans of dirt
and the skirt of trees
with their black trunks
and spreading of leaves,
a lifting of yellows and greens.
.
On the opposite side of the ditch,
sixty acres of soybeans
show the seams of drought,
pitch brown splotches and
scattered blotches of green
in the low places that held more rain
the few times it came.
.
Even in the dry times,
lives that find
some good source,
deep and steady,
will stand ready to bear
some good color,
ready to face the harvest.
~ Doc Arnett
Doc Arnett is the director of Institutional Research at the oldest college in Kansas. A native of West Kentucky, he and his wife, Randa, live in Doniphan County and share twenty grandkids. Doc enjoys singing, playing guitar, writing, remodeling, pastoring a small church and competing in mud runs.
The Coop: A Poetry Cooperative 
I really enjoyed your poem. I ran across it when I was looking for my twin brother’s poems,on line.William Wyatt Arnett died in 1996. My parents were born and raised in Huntington West Virginia, and our family had relatives in Kentucky. My grandmother Genevieve Wyatt was raised in Kentucky. Maybe we are related. Elaine Arnett, Santa Barbara, California.