Crying Cows...
All night they cry
and then all day -
long and loud
in moos of pain...
Dust and flies
and haze and heat -
lowered heads
and stamping feet...
Gone the eyes -
so trusting - full -
the frisk - the fun -
the play - the pull...
And now on tables
in this land -
tasty steaks
come on demand...
Joy Weare,
23rd December, 2009.
Poetry Ad-Free Upgrades
Vote for this poem
Please Comment On This Poem
|
|
|
|
|
poet7925 |
|
|
|