Tomorrow when the farm boys find this
freak of nature, they will wrap his body
in newspaper and carry him to the museum.
But tonight he is alive and in the north
field with his mother. It is a perfect
summer evening: the moon rising over
the orchard, the wind in the grass.
And as he stares into the sky, there
are twice as many stars as usual.
This, and the image accompanied by it, were one of the things that broke me when I was younger.
I legit cried because it was so beautifully put together.
That’s what’s so weird about us humans.
We can write beautiful poetry about cows, then eat them.
That is beautiful. Thank you.