A beef encounter

By

The Holsteins have left the hills behind this place. Their paths remain, like those the cyclists plant. They wandered up and down with heavy grace. And when they reached a certain lower point- To grant the necessary push and gain the upward slant - Produced a sudden, faster pace; Surprising, when they seemed so adamant. I miss the bovine rhythm of their day: Its rural patterns reassured my urban mind. Once, from the safety of the porch, in silly, city play, I mooed a nasal greeting toward the herd. The Bull, severely black, custom-designed, Responded deep, with puzzled tone, head slightly turned, as if to say ''So blind that cow, so dumb, to stray so far behind.''

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