Poetry Blogs (Cattle)

Independence Day

At first they said ‘infect the herd’

but experts told us ‘that’s absurd,

you will cause deaths in the old.

What sort of shepherd risks the fold?’

So they put the cattle in the pen

only to be let out when

the time was right, or so they said,

they didn’t want their people dead.

The woolybacks baa’d and the daft cows moo’d

And farmer Boris calculate...

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You see

            a land wraithed in smoke and the stink of death

You feel

            man's determination dulled by desperation and

            the hollow, guilty hope that the creeping fate might end

            at a neighbour's door.

You cannot farm in the present

At least not in Wales.

The hills were silent memorials to herds brought low,

Uncropped: a tragedy of gr...

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