Feeding the cows was easy in the pasture.
The fence around the haystack
Let cows stick their necks through
To eat to their hearts content.
Within a week or so, the once mounded stack
Looked more like a big mushroom
The fence could be moved two or three times
Before tearing it down forming it back
And the cycle would start again.
We were quite fond of our dairy cows
Each had a name
And a stall
The farm was never quite the same
After this summer nights fall
The storm roared across the plain
The cattle pushed in closer
The barn wouldn’t hold them all
So they had to fend in the pasture
Dust spattered with rain
Drove them against the breaking fence
Thunder pushed them further in
Under the mushroom hay
When lightening hit and ignited the stack
You’d think they’d run away
They stayed.
It was fearful to cross that blackened ground
For many years thereafter
Bones and ash were all we found
We never milked another cow.