TUESDAY MORE
I found the cow skull in a pile
of broken things - other stuff,
man-made. Startled by the
moment, staring back at me.
I sort of wanted to walk away,
to flee, even, from still another
reminder of death. Oh how that
does get tiresome. I was hoping
the cow took some joy with it,
out, and along its way. The
current of chewing the cud,
some real idea of feeling good.
But, I wasn't sure cows even
understand that feel, because
it first would need a name,
and that takes words, and
cows have none?
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