First Milk
The calf falls into the world, it struggles to stand on spindly legs,
stumbles beneath its mother for that first milk.
I lurch out of bed to face the morning. (day)
Stronger now, the baby sticks close to its grazing mother, trots to keep up
when she moves to another bit of grass.
I watch the sun shoulder the night away
Cud chewing time, the cow kneels to the ground,
the youngster beside her.
In the thicket, I hear the wood thrush pipe in the spring morning
Grass glistens in the warming sun,
the calf careens down the hill.
And I take 3 little pills to keep up with the day
hellebore 2019
