cold hard cider
in a yellow glass cup
my legs heavy
plods in the upturned earth
something has come
taken my growth away
four legged mouth
eaten all the soft butter
lettuce and the hard
earned cauliflower stalks
grieving the stolen greens but not really grieving not
like I have in the past for the real loss of person and
love when something steals quietly into the day and
takes away just takes away we keep waking up and
making we keep waking up and storing away and
coming up with reasons and new ways to talk to
each other but somehow these goats and sheep
know their own story of baaas and guttural grunts
cat calling across the paddocks to each other and I
want nothing to do with them or the bear he shot at
three nights ago I want to pick my own animal my
own access to what is and what is not there
I thought it dejected
the new red cabbage
fallen on its side
when really it had been
saved
being all alone
away from striking
surprise
of what is for us
and what is just there