We Are Cows In a Field

They dent the sky with the shattered lamb, for no-one thinks to read the bones anymore. The old ones know a little more, but oft as not turn a disgruntled eye and let the others learn for themselves. Without even false hopes, we are nothing more than cows in a field, so maybe we should wish to preserve them and when the stars finally fall away, leaving holes in a bitter sky, it will come as no surprise (to some of us) that the others don’t even stop grazing and just glance over with bovine eyes at this thing that has fallen.