Cow Shadows - InkSpot.Com

JOSE GERVIC LABE, JR.

Cow Shadows

In twilight's hush, when sun bleeds gold to ash,
On moonlit fields, where shadows twist and crash,
A spectral herd takes form, a ghostly moo,
Cow shadows dance, where mortal hooves once flew.

Hooves that clattered, bells that softly chimed,
Eyes like amber, coats like dusk, sublimed,
Now linger echoes, wisps of moo and sigh,
The mournful dirge of cattle past, gone by.

They graze on moonlight, sip from dew-kissed ponds,
Their hollow forms leave no hoof-prints, no bonds,
Just fleeting shapes that shimmer, then are gone,
Ghosts of bovines, in the dying dawn.

Some say they're echoes of a farmer's pride,
His cherished stock, forever by his side,
Others whisper tales of restless souls,
Lost in the pasture, where the twilight strolls.

Do they yearn for warmth, for meadows green and bright?
Or wander aimless, lost in endless night?
Perhaps they seek the hand that once gave hay,
A phantom touch to chase the shadows away.

So, when you see them flit across the land,
Those spectral cows, a ghostly, mooing band,
Remember whispers, tales of love and loss,
And ghosts of bovines, forever crossed.

For in their dance, a memory they keep,
Of sun-soaked meadows, where they used to sleep,
A silent plea, a mooing in the night,
For peace to find, and fade from moonlit sight.

LINE COUNT: 28 lines
WRITTEN FOR: "The Writer's Cramp"

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