Look straight into the obsidian eye,
observe the strutting posture
buttoned up in her sheen,
a black aura from her scabby heart
to the tip of each honed feather.
A keeper of kept secrets
seen in the quiet cow fields,
scrolling boney shanks
under four chambered bellies,
picking through warm scented dung
for seeds and insects,
mulling an impending treachery.
Riding the rusty undulations
of a wire fence
breaking into notes
of unapologetic ebullience,
an unrepentant offering of song.
Seeing you for what you really are…
should we overlook?
What pastoral would be complete
What cow calmed?
By Joyce Joslin Lorenson
Joyce Joslin Lorenson lives in Rhode Island, grew up on a dairy farm and records the daily happenings in nature around her rural home. She has been published in several print and electronic journals.