Cattlemen

The last chore of a summer day
beside my father in his jeep
watching cattle graze in the evening coolness
after their torpid day of shade seeking
and tails ceaselessly slashing at flies

They would slowly raise their heads at our passing
steadily chewing, tails now simply swishing
as the practiced eye of the cattleman took their measure
alert for problems needing attention

And my eyes darted about the herd
anxiously trying to prove my worth
to catch what he might have missed
that I might swell with pride
upon receipt of his approbation