(v2) Pregnant Cow in Backyard

[matsunosuperfan]

Pregnant Cow in Backyard

She isn’t moved by sugar. You have to wait
for her to lumber slowly down the wilted fence
that couldn’t hold a sneeze. The only payment
here: a cabbage glowing in your sleeve.

Sarah’s mom or grandmother has carved
her name into the wood, you watch again
as clouds open and miracles fall out.
The air is heavy with the taste of spring.

When she bends down to drink, be sure
to kiss the cow’s tremendous face—all night
she’s been so hungry for the apple
of your breath. You lean against her ribs,
someone’s singing in the distant dark.
Listen closely: this could be your child.

Is it poor form to post a second draft before anyone comments on the first? Bill my lawyer. 

Pregnant Cow in Backyard

She’s much too big to move: you have to wait
for her to lumber down the wilted fence
that couldn’t hold her if she tried, a cabbage
glowing in your sleeve the only form
of payment. In the country, it is always 
raining, claims the sign. Someone’s mom
or grandmother has stitched a memory
across the border where the lichen sinks
its yellow teeth, a bonnet pink and spotted
with decay. Who could ever kiss
her heavy face, which she lifts up to you
so hungry for the apple of your breath,
and not be changed? It’s always spring:
a cloud opens, a miracle falls out.