Thursday, January 27

A Poem for Thursday.

Indian Cattle

With soft faces
and docile eyes
they view us.
on dusty red roads. 
Huddling together
in the dusky sundown.

No sacred cows
each one owned
and needed.
Yet no field owned
though needed.

White taxis swerve
and sound
their raucous klaxons.
Gentle beasts
sway a little
and the cars pass by.

Red dust is thrown up
from rutted roads
long black bovine lashes
flick it away
as they have done
for ever.


  1. long black bovine lashes
    flick it away
    as they have done
    for ever.

    What a timeless feel to these words...

  2. I keep meaning to post a message to say how much I like your poems for Thursday, and I especially like this one - it really captures the slow peaceful bovine nature of a sacred cow.

  3. A lovely blog. I'm glad I've stumbled upon it. I completely agree with Jinksy. Those lines capture something of the timeless feel of India.

  4. Jinksy...thankyou for your comment. One of the feelings of India for me was the sense of timelessness even though the country is so much into the the I.T. world.
    mairi.. it's really good of you to view the post. Thankyou.
    Liz...I'm loving your latest blogs...and glad that you have kept going for another year!


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