In the Meadow

Cows bellow, low, heads between rails such large deep sad eyes, such full bags. For whom do they await, no one home to let them out, share out their milk. Not long ago I saw you wandering off with him his hand caressing your neck, gripping your arm holding you stiff, obedient to his will and you were bound to follow, no sound escaped your lips, and me, why am I watching for the scene to play out? Don’t we all know don’t we all grieve, for the coming of that day when cowl slips down, the bellow, low aches. You won’t come home, will you my dear. I guess I paid the right price for a job well done Your cheating heart won’t bestir us to wait Never more. This farm is sold outright.