Just Watching and Listening, for Now

One white-headed calf scampers
Playfully in the pasture, threading
The ranks of black heifers head down
In the green. Probably destined

For beef, but it’s hard to imagine
A more picturesque freedom
For a young bovine in spring.
What’s this mean? “Forever,”

They say, is “tough to out wait.”
The alternatives, almost inevitably,
Advocate hope, life in the moment,
Seizing the day. And this calf?

Some songbird I don’t recognize
And don’t want to name joins
The late-afternoon chorus of finches,
Wrens, robins, and larks, making hay.

It has a better, longer song
Than any of them, to my ears.
Whatever comes to stun it
At the end of its song-filled days

Won’t be a rancher, won’t be
A bolt gun at the end of lowing.
Will likely be drought or winter. Cold,
Thirst, or hunger. Tough to out wait.