Tuesday, March 11, 2014


Calves come when it's cold -
cold enough to freeze all thought from your flesh
and leave your fingers phantoms
in your gloves.

They come in the middle of the night
when the only light
is the headlight shine on snow
and the rolled white glint the of a mama's eyes.

They come bloody, and they come breach.
They come twisted and turned.
They come

until you're in up to your shoulder and reaching,
too tired to pull another pound,
and the goddamn winch is busted,
goddamn it, godDAMN!

Calves come when it's cold.


Gail said...

Yes. We had to use hay string and the ATV to pull one last year. Took it slow and easy and it worked.

Dad always used burlap sacks and pulled by hand.

Thank God they do keep coming.

Anonymous said...

I've read that many ranchers are praying their cows keep their legs crossed this winter, so many calves are dying because of the wretched cold ~

hedgewitch said...

They say birth is the biggest trauma there is, and even being part of it is seldom a picnic--a strong, visually sharp piece full of pain and some great lines, MZ, like the phantoms in the gloves.

Kathryn said...

Holy cow, pun intended. Great visual write.

Fireblossom said...

This is so vivid. I love when you write like this.