Post #205072 by tikivixen on Sat, Dec 31, 2005 1:43 AM

Out to Pasture

"I fear death,
But once when it was close to me it was cowlike,
It went moo."
Reed Whittemore (1974)

Fey ogre, dragon, reaper, skull and bones,
dark siren, empty executioner,
I dub them gentle cud-caressing cows,

so now there’s not one Death but a placid herd
of hit-cows winding up to put us down
and softly moo at us when laying low,

and as we toil our homeward ways we know
a curfew ruminant will sidle near
to part us. What are you afraid of now?

Cows.

Sep 1982