Tag Archives: cow

JULY EVENING

Four-thirty and it’s cooled down

from 115—black cows are leaving

sycamore shade for the water trough,

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plodding several hundred yards of hard clay

and short blond fuzz to drink,

not like last night’s forceful mob,

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but one-by-one, the order established

over years of living together—uphill 

two hundred more to shady Blue Oaks

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to gather and decide which way to go.

The heat has slowed their rhythm

only slightly, they are bound to graze

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what’s left on the slopes behind us:

take the steep trail to the top of the ridge

or the long pull only part-way to the sky.