Thursday's Lesson

How I Am Learning To Love It Here

Baby cow has become our very best friend.
S/he’s always home.
S/he raises her head when we greet her.
“Hi cow!” We chirrup.

We like her androgynous.
Donkey’s bits are always a little out of control
and he seems needy.

The days spin into a timeless grey-white airborne mass
heaving against the sky. It is always threatening.

We sat by the pond today for an hour and a half.
Threw bits of straw into the algae covered water.
Mostly, the sun shined on us. We rewarded him
by singing a sun song. It helps to stay positive.

It is cozy. Perhaps transcendent. This very insular child space is close kin to zen.

When we ran out of bits of dried grass, we ventured up
an Earth berm. How jealous I am of the bees. So fat and
weightless gobbling sweets all day.

Not wanting to disturb my chubby brethren, we approached the forest (patch of trees) seeking

a stick. There we found a murdered
cherry tree. Corpse already picked over.
And helped ourselves to her bones.

He poked the pond. I wove her twigs
into small sculptures with tall grass and long iris leaves all of whom had narrowly escaped the mower.
I laid them out on the dock. Seven memorials.
Then, Winston set them afloat

before we went home. To sleep.