Out the scullery window
comes the gloved wave
that means to say
a calf is coming.
Lying there, half
dead-looking,
a bundle of
spittle-slick fur
sticking every shape,
a pinkish, piss-
yellow puddle
swaddles her,
her eyes like
lychees, tongue out,
swooned to stillness
by her mother’s
proudest moans.
-
Author:
R. R. Bluer (Pseudonym) (
Offline) - Published: January 4th, 2023 08:02
- Category: Nature
- Views: 16
Offline)
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