Wednesday, 2 October 2013


The cattle surge in their pen,
Shifting and flowing,
To the roped gate.

Spring has come. The farmer
Senses the ardency
Of their senses.

The gate swings wide.
From the shadows cattle
Trample, bucking

Into the sun.
Its warmth balms the joints
Of their plump bodies.

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I'm glad to hear how this strikes you!