Two cows craned
through barb wire
next door to the steakhouse.
Pasture wasn’t good enough today.
We waited for our meal,
argued which is better,
food grown up on or what
you claim yourself. I found
This place of formal dates,
anniversaries of quieted plea.
Confess the best nights
are spent and left alone.
Cows startle seldom,
avoid barbs but chew.
We just laugh
a little louder each year.