Night Image: A Poem from the Past

I open my door                        

and see a cow

chained to the back

of a pick-up,

trotting and stumbling

to keep up,

caught

in the headlights

of a sheriff’s car

close

at her heels.

Alongside, bands of

children run excitedly,

shouting.

My door shuts,

too late,

the image already

inside.

Later I hear she was

an escapee from the

stock yards, and

subsequently

slaughtered.

About Nan Mykel

At 79, I was just about to stop keeping a journal, but that felt like accepting that growth was finished. I don't want to be finished, yet! I'm 80 now, and struggling to communicate with you, if you'll come and set awhile. P.S. My how time flies! I'm 82 now.
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