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And he told them a parable that they ought always
to pray and not lose heart
—Luke 18:1
An evening has passed, and a young cow is still
crying among the herd this morning like the widow
in the Bible who wouldn’t leave an ill-tempered
judge alone. And though the judge neither feared
God nor regarded man, he relented, annoyed to
at last attend what was unsettling her.
And so I’ve ridden out into the pasture to see what
could be the matter: did she misplace her calf as
my wife might’ve left her purse at the theatre? Or
perhaps he’s departed, tooth and claw in pursuit—
to the stars, as she’d have us believe in her present
anguish. There’s nothing to find amid the indolent
drove, no tell-tale tuft, track, nor bleat to color
the winsome air. So, her pet grief goes unanswered,
insufferable, while mist has risen in the distance,
grown upon itself to cover a world it brings to our
door, whispering onto dripping eaves, rattling
in the downspout, the earth’s own soliloquy.
~~~~
From Portals (Press 53, 2022)

Sean Sexton was born and raised on his family’s Treasure Hammock Ranch and divides his time between writing, painting, and managing a 700-acre cow-calf and seed stock operation. He is author of Blood Writing: Poems (Anhinga Press); May Darkness Restore: Poems (Press 53); and Portals: Poems (Press 53).
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“the earth’s own soliloquy” Yes.
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Yes!
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Sean praises every blade of grass, every cow turd, every fence post. He withholds nothing, no verb or adverb, no turn of phrase, no simile, for everything radiates the goodness he feels without trying. Not like the rest of us who withhold our praise for things worthy as if our enthusiasm were gold we save to buy a Cadillac when our feet are leading us off the road.
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Simply a beautiful, surprising, spiritually-shining piece. Thank you!
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isn’t it just so?
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Thankyou all for your kind words! I was surprised to find my poem in Vox Populi this morning and further surprised at your inspiring responses. It means the world to me!
I never found the calf that morning that had the cow so upset, but she did wean a good calf that season and I have to assume certain capriciousness on the calf’s behalf. Calves will ignore their mammies and vice versa on occasion, just like us!
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Bravo, Sean, Bravo!
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Such heart, such heart, memorable & exquisite precision in imagery, and fine cadence and music in this poem. How Sean’s poems, always, master tone so perfectly. This must be read aloud :
“There’s nothing to find amid the indolent
drove, no tell-tale tuft, track, nor bleat to color
the winsome air. So, her pet grief goes unanswered,
insufferable.”
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I agree. Such heart. Such music. Such craft.
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I am new to Sexton and this poem just made me a devoted reader. What beautiful imagery and lyrical language.
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Isn’t Sean great? A cowboy with a gift for lyrical meditations.
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Oh my, how I love this poem.
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What a gorgeous, gorgeous poem, Sean. And my heart broke for the poor cow, especially after learning that those animals are rather intelligent and sensitive. I love your poetry. It’s unique.
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wonderfully crafted
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A masterpiece.
When I worked as the hired man on a dairy farm, this also happened to us, though we found the tragic answer when we opened the cow’s mouth. It had tried to tongue a morsel from an unsprung animal trap.
But I never dreamed of writing a poem about the tragedy. Sean would have brought that curious event to a deep level of being. The craft, inventive mixing of a poem to tell a truth with his own slant, and deep spirituality mark this as a Sean Sexton poem . Ah, to be able to do something that well.
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I worked on a ranch in Texas years ago, but I saw no poetry in it. Sean is a genius at elevating the mundane to the profound.
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My god in heaven — only Sean Sexton could write a poem like this. Something tells me I’ll be hearing that cow cry for days.
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Yes, only Sean could write this poem.
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Sean Sexton raises the folk art of Cowboy Poetry to high art with his wild imagination, sure craft, and brave explorations. We are lucky to have him among us.
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