I have watched bovine creatures
on moonlit nights
lying on their straw mattresses
regurgitating to glory
I have always wondered
what do they think
as they move their jaws
east to west and west to east
the occasional shake of head
to dislodge the irritating fly
or to erase a disturbing memory.
After a days grazing , the tired limbs rest
while the hurriedly eaten grass gets re-processed.
After decades of wandering I rest mine
and memories come back for reliving.
They taste different from when consumed.
The painful thorn I consumed now
tickles my tongue
and the greenest leaf I pursued
and consumed
now feels insipid.
