FINAL JOURNEY

The back gate of the trailer
slams against the yard,
resonating dully metallic around
the sheds and byres.
--
The cows are hooshed forward
unwillingly, their deep, damp eyes
questioning you. They need your
ever-present guidance. “How do
--
you want to do this?” someone asks.
“See how they come”, you answer.
“See how they come”. Gradually
they inch onwards, heads down,
--
sniffing the hard, cold concrete for
danger, an ancient instinct that now
itches at them; a long-dormant urge
almost bred out of them.
--
A gentle soothing word and a tap
on the flank and the first goes
up, up, up and in. Her soft hard
hooves clang and bang into
--
the bowels of the truck. The
others follow. This is what you
want. There can be no harm. You
were their constant companion.
--
You were there at their Alpha,
and now their Omega. You
sometimes cursed them but always
loved them. Now, however, you
--
have been robbed of one
eye and can no longer be there
for them. You must save yourself
for those who love you.
--
“See how they come”, you say.
A watery eye looks at you.
Your eye waters too.
“See how they come”.

There they go.