My little goat is sick.
We have tried this and that,
Medicine and care,
And more medicine.
Sometimes we think she rallies.
Her appetite improves.
And she gets herself up on two of her legs.
But then she goes down again.
You hear her pathetic bleats.
She is lying uncomfortably.
And she seems too weak to get up.
We prop her up on fresh hay,
With food and water close.\,
And she still has her appetite.
How long do we go on like this?
When to let go?
Here's the challenge - compose a poem each day for one year, that reflects my agrarian life. On our hobby farm on the edge of the Monaro my husband Matthew and I raise children (I have eight, though only five remain at home), sheep, goats, chooks, piglets, a milking cow and her calf, fruit and vegies. To support this enterprise I teach in the remotest school in Victoria - if anywhere in Victoria is truly remote.
Showing posts with label goats. Show all posts
Showing posts with label goats. Show all posts
Sunday, 5 July 2015
Sunday, 11 January 2015
Persistence
Persistence
That's how the goats,
Finally break through our fences.
They spy a delectable wattle,
Delicious native raspberry,
Our orchard.
Push and pull.
Twisted necks and other contortions.
Heads and horns defy the electric wire,
Then shoulders,
And they're through.
Ripping limbs,
Long strings of bark.
Delicately nibbling tender green leaves.
Ring barking.
Till our cherished trees,
Stand naked and torn.
I gasp dismayed.
Today we will fortify the 'barb' with hinge joint.
That's how the goats,
Finally break through our fences.
They spy a delectable wattle,
Delicious native raspberry,
Our orchard.
Push and pull.
Twisted necks and other contortions.
Heads and horns defy the electric wire,
Then shoulders,
And they're through.
Ripping limbs,
Long strings of bark.
Delicately nibbling tender green leaves.
Ring barking.
Till our cherished trees,
Stand naked and torn.
I gasp dismayed.
Today we will fortify the 'barb' with hinge joint.
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