Jack posted this in November, 2005:
El Palenque
El Palenque doesn’t think;
Knows and loves
His only job
And does it;
Perfection without compromise.
Reality
Where owls, hawks
And sly coyotes salivate
Reduced
To lowest common denominator
When the cackling hen
Rises from a fresh-laid egg.
Gallo del Cielo
Gallo del Cielo
Looks at God
Before he dies
Weeps
For eggs
Unlaid
From Araucana
Hens.
Red Tail Hawk
Raptor eye
Picks the kindred soul
Of silky bantam
From the flock
Rosencrantz
(A buff-crested Polish)
False dawn
Full moon
Morning.
Treetop cries
Of Rosencrantz
And Guildenstern
Deceived by
Counterfeit
Light
And sound
Misty memories
Of owl dreams
From Poems of the New Old West
Copyright 2002, Jack Purcell
Morning blogsters:
Mostly a quiet morning here. Still thinking about those chickens, which occasionally happens. Maybe next year I can fill up the chicken house and orchard in back with a new flock. I love waking to the sounds of a flock of chickens stretching out and discovering they’re alive.
That pic at the top is a worked over scan of the grips on a 1911 Army Colt I keep around. The grips came off another one that was evidently made for the Brazilian Police, carried around and worn completely out, except the grips.
An acquaintance of mine came by the piece, wanted to renovate it, but hated the grips because he believed they were too hokey. Which of course, they were. Made them a perfect match for me and mine.
Jack