Alleyway Calf
(A unique and powerful image, not a commentary on the dairy industry. Most farmers love their animals, and calves are cared for well.)
My life begins with pain,
No sacrament, no beauty.
I am dropped within
This backwards way,
No hay, no straw,
No Mother-tongue,
So rough and warm,
To dry me, clean me, help me find
The use of lungs for air
Or hair for tongues.
This place is
Steeped in fetid shoals,
And pieces predigested stick
To me and make
My dark coat blacker
And even browner still,
But strip my chocolate luster,
My dappledness and umbre,
My nut-brown perfect wonder,
All my waves of richer color,
My tones torn wide asunder,
Leaving nothing but a blundered,
Blemished, barely breathing stain.
About the Creator
John Hein Nystrom
As a veterinary student and poet, I inhale wonder like it's oxygen. Existence is beautiful, ridiculous, tragic, and breathtaking. There is poetry in every dust mote and meaning in every phenomenon. Our worth and absurdity are profound.
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