Why does a cow complain of clouds?
Her plain is vast and reaches round.
Her eye is fixed upon the dome,
The grass below her cloven hoof.
She tries to wander far and wide
But looming up above her eye
Where birds do zig and zag and cry
The sky, the sky, the sky, the sky!
But fixed to ground and anchored fast
To green and dirt, she's stuck by force
Of course her feet can move and graze
but heart entombed in ribs and fence.
The vulture-beast outside the gate:
alicking jowls, eyes that bite;
her prison, freedom, fortress, life.
Her sorrow, pleasure, living blind.
