Under a tree in a Florida pasture, they are jostling for space in the shade. They are brown suede and black velvet, sleek and soft-skinned. We glide by in our red Mustang. My cheeks are getting sunburned. The wind makes a snarl of my hair. I am holding a straw visor on my head with one hand.The cows have a tree and they all want it. I want the sun and the wind and to go so fast I leave my life behind. I can almost hear the cows politely asking one another to move over a little. No one says anything to me.
How long do they let cows live before they eat them?
Not longer than 60 years I'm thinking.
My birthday 2007
Barbara - for some reason I didn't get that this was your 2007 birthday poem - not until reading it after your party (today). I love it! I really think it's time to put all of those birthday poems in a manuscript and send it out....
ReplyDeleteMimi