She Said # Claine Keily 135

She said to me
I wish you unmothered
the way cattle are
at the end of spring

She beckoned me
to wither
with her
jealous of the last of
my green limbs

But I am unaccustomed to
the winter
and fought against
this one last scene
the way calves must
as they are led to slaughter
pining for the fields of green