LOST FRIEND GONE

 

 

The canyon quiet by the fourth dawn, heads buried
beneath the waves of blond dry grasses, behind spears
of wild oats arching empty husks, first-time mothers

grazing like we expect our perfect world to be.
No plaintive calls, no searching draws, no panicked
pleading to canyon walls for their weaned calves

they have almost forgotten. We are relieved
of guilt, unburdened from their guttural mourning,
the harsh cacophony of maternity, of eighty

broken bonds rasping, wild wailing around us.
Aging skin grows thin imagining the magic
of companionship delivered from the womb,

of nursing, of mothering the first-born and losing it.
Emptiness and sorrow for a lost friend gone,
these cows giving voice to my unusual confusion.

 

4 responses to “LOST FRIEND GONE

  1. Lost Friend Gone……..

    “It’s hard enough separating the good stuff from the bullshit without adding to the whole mess by wanting to know what you ain’t gonna know.”

    Grandaddy Jake Santee…….FUP, Jim Dodge

    Not wisdom to be invoked frequently or carelessly but….on occasion.
    JEG

    Liked by 1 person

  2. Conrad Carlberg

    “Plaintive,” maybe, rather than “plaintiff”? I know I’m especially pedantic on Sundays, so I admit that the context of the second stanza suggests “plaintiff.” And the two words have a common heritage. The sense of grief comes through, either way.

    Liked by 1 person

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out /  Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out /  Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )

w

Connecting to %s

This site uses Akismet to reduce spam. Learn how your comment data is processed.