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.