An all-red heifer kept to breed
as an afterthought that calved
and strayed over the mountain,
run through fences by ATVs,
corralled for three weeks,
udder tight before shrinking—
before the brand inspector called
to pick her up in a muddy flat
between rains. We saw it all:
the errant pair chased
by determined desperation,
to miles of separation
when we loaded her big-eyed
silliness in the gooseneck,
“Where’s her calf?”
No one knows, looking dumb
in the face of the obvious.
We haul her home and hope
she finds the heifer
that looks just like her—
and damned if she doesn’t
come back into her milk.
drycrikjournal 