Nancie McCormish

Nancie McCormish

I’m a bone-dried Western creature, part Magpie, part dust-devil, part free-range horse, and perpetually surprised I wasn’t born with four hooves. Words are one path I’m exploring to honor the life within and around me. They help trace a sketchy map I’m making of The Territories I find.

Hay Fever

They cut and run
from sun to sun,

Leaving little green mountains
where once there were none.

Loafy green packages
all in a row…

Once succulent soldiers
now slain by the mow.

Mechanical ants
chewing hay off the fields,

Slicing up summer
for winter’s cold meals.

© 2009, Nancie McCormish