I know you will forget
little one
how you needed me to turn the teat
towards your mouth
for you to suck.
As you knew what to do
but not how
I steered you under your mother
while she moaned
in protest and relief.
*
Your divided loyalties
will heal, baby thing
though now you bleat
and rise when I approach,
open the gate
and lure your mother
across the yard
skipping away from her lunges
until I can trick her
into the holding pen.
*
You will no longer accept
my cradling arms
as I lift and carry you
to the side of the handling crate
where your mother stamps
and shakes
until I nudge you forward
with an arm round your rear
and a hand guiding your head
blind on to one teat
and another.
*
I will stay with you
pressed to my chest
my head on your mother’s
matted flank
until you are done,
you scrap,
lose body cracking tension
from your muscles
withdraw groggily
from withered flaps
to digest trembling.
*
My knees are cold,
little heifer,
from kneeling in frozen muck
the muscles in my arm ache
with holding you into
this noisome hollow
my back just tweaked
but your tail wags
contentedly along
the arm I’ve wrapped
round your arse
and your red curls
smell like peatsmoke.