The First Moo

His hand goes in, white hooves come out.
Black bony legs, bound by chain,
He draws them out.
Then a head, a neck, a torso,
The hips are stuck.
He pulls and twists,
The hind legs slide out,
Blood and water spurt,
The calf falls to the ground.
The head rolls to the side, the eyes roll back,
The eyelids close, the legs lay limp,
The chest is still.
He kneads and pounds the chest.
He pleads, ‘Breathe, little fella,
You've got to do the rest.'
The calf takes a breath.
Brown eyes open, she lifts her head,
Shakes her long ears, flapping against her head.
She looks around at the world I know,
A new world meets our eyes
Where everything is new for her
And she is new for me.
How bewildered she must be
Or maybe it's just me.
She wasn't here and now she is,
Born like an idea she announces, ‘I am here.'

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