The Conductor
The Conductor
I used to walk up into the woods. Now,
Each step takes me deeper into the day.
Often I would encounter the cows,
Hearing, before seeing them, the terse sound
Of their grazing, nurses tearing towels
Into bandages in anticipation
Of blood. I was shy around them, afraid
To make them afraid, as if my fear
Were a flame that might light theirs on fire.
The fence that kept them in was so thin —
A single wire through which drubbed
A current that never slowed nor quickened,
Ticking where a branch was checking its pulse.
Confined within this tenuous power
They drifted over the land like weather.
Approach them slowly, even in memory.
Watch them raise their huge heads heavy
As anvils, blades wicking out of their mouths.
If you stand still enough, they just may
Come towards you, devoted as musicians
Gazing at their conductor, their eyes
Affixed on the thin baton atremble
With the power of music
The moment before
The symphony begins.