Bless the Cows

Bless the Cows


Some dear creature that
once roamed the fields
of green grass, sacrificed
that I might live.

Thank you, bovine savior.

It runs, this keloid scar,
from the top of my chest
to somewhere below my breasts.
Some dear cow gave a vital
vessel to be sewn into me.
I was dead on the table
for 47 minutes, duly noted
by the doc in my papers.
But, like Lazarus, I rose
again with new vitality.