First Milk

The calf falls into the world, it struggles to stand on spindly legs,
stumbles beneath its mother for that first milk.

I lurch out of bed to face the day

Stronger now, the baby sticks close to its grazing mother, trots to keep up
when she moves to another bit of grass.

I watch the sun shoulder the night away


Cud chewing time, the cow kneels to the ground,
the youngster beside her.

In the thicket, I hear the wood thrush pipe in the spring morning

Grass glistens in the warming sun,
the calf careens down the hill.

And I take 3 little pills to keep up with the day

Barbara Brooks, author of “The Catbird Sang” and “A Shell to Return to the Sea” chapbooks, is a member of Poet Fools.  Her work has been accepted in Avalon Literary Review, Chagrin River Review, The Foundling Review, Blue Lake ReviewThird Wednesday, Peregrine, Tar River Poetry among others.

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