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Made in Milk

by James Walton (follow)
The cattle have grazed through the wait
anxious at the gate getting noisy
throwing heads shuffling feet in the dark
udders tight with the thought of grain

this winter icy frigid as despair
in your hair a faint elixir of that secret smoke
the pack of Old Jamaica you hide
behind the grease gun where I donít go

enough rain to bring in Spring dams full
if you must get up Iíll have early lunch ready
a special gourmet treat from my menu of eleven
probably number three the Mexican beans

although Iíd rather you stayed awhile
listening to the river play La Ninaís nocturne
thereís nothing unknown to discover outside
under these blankets itís as warm as hello.

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