Third day wean
when hungry heifers
eat out of my hands
at the feed bunk—
leafy alfalfa flakes
that fall apart, the rich
green of last year’s
high-dollar hay—
rather than distress
over mothers no longer
posted at the gate
that most have left
lamenting another loss
of nine-month intimacy
and their mother-daughter
companionship.
drycrikjournal 