I walked to the barn this evening; wanted to say goodbye to my old friend whose udders were dry from milking. She always saw me through the worst of times when I thought life wasn’t worth living but tonight I lie down beside her on a bed of hay; wrap my arms around her wrinkled hide while the two of us fall asleep gazing at the moon through a crack in the roof. She nursed many babies yet tomorrow they’ll send her to the stockyard. Oh Weaver, bless your bossy cow for all she gave but received so little.
My heart aches …hard to say goodbye

© 2020 Jennifer Brookins