Cow Poem

the neighbor's quiet, sweet cows shared an afternoon's inspiration with me...

Sitting under the trees

with the far away sun like a friend

grinning without a sound,

I watch the gentle bovine spirits

plod the soft, green ground

in unhurried pleasure.

 

Simple, munching movements,

make cloven prints into the dirt.

Sweeping tails swish away concerns,

and the breeze carries the buzzing insects

further down the field.

 

This beast's squared head and

out-turned ears ponder with a quiet curiosity

that only says,

"Are you here to harm?" or,

"Have you brought something good to eat?"

 

And then stepping into

their sister's hoofprints,

they wander into greener knolls,

then stand, looking.

 

Pure being,

no resistance,

true to their nature.

Reviews

[Ed Hart]

my cows use to line up at the fence and listen to the crazy white man play his cherry wood flute...

[Mark D. Chevalier]

Cows...yummy! Lol...

Sorry, a bit of a meat-a-terian joke there. This one made me smile. I never thought that a poem about a cow could be framed this way. I almost felt as though I were in the field watching them, and it did feel like a serene moment.

Nicely done!

Mark

[Wildecat]

I can relate and appreciate this poem, simply because I grew up on a farm and was able to watch these wonderful animals first hand. Nice write.