An overland route traveled upon— leaving hoof marks and a swale
on the land
cattle—
bovine animals with four feet, esp. domesticated members of the
genus Bos, as cows and steers
Middle English catel, from Anglo-French katil, chatel personal
property, from Medieval Latin capitale wealth from capitalis of
the head—
trail—
Middle English trailen, probably from Old French trailler, to hunt
without a foreknown course, from Vulgar Latin trāgulāre, to
make a deer double back and forth, perhaps alteration [influenced
by Latin trāgula, dragnet] of Latin trahere, to pull, draw
cattle trail—
to circle now the animal— not to hunt— but to drive to slaughter.
walk walk huff huff snort snort— a drover recorded the moanings
of the cattle— where water? where grass? but they poke us on—
dust lifting and falling like pages turning in a journal.
Later my father worked in the stockyards in Kansas. By then
the cattle were transported by train under a lilac cloud in the west.
Later I drive the same route Texas to Kansas circling back and
back again— drawing gasoline from roadside tanks. Myself
driving. Myself driven upon by the weight of measure. Over
old cattle trails— the steady movement of the car— my foot
on the gas pedal— keep them moving.
Diane Glancy is a long-time writer. The words, “We must be sparing,” came from her Aunt Martha who lived through the Depression. Glancy is professor emerita at Macalester College. Her latest books: Island of the Innocent, a Consideration of the Book of Job (2020), A Line of Driftwood, the Ada Blackjack Story, (2021), Home Is the Road, Wandering the Land, Shaping the Spirit (2022), “Psalm to Whom(e) (2023), Quadrille, Christianity and the Early New England Indians (2024), The Cubist and the Lost Notebooks of the Painter’s Wife (2025), and Lazarus, the Intended Writings, forthcoming in 2026.
