Peter Kocan: Cows

Cows graze across the hill,
Measuring the day
As their shadows tell
Irrelevant time. Their gait is half-way
Between moving and standing still.

The sun is gentle on the green
Of their meadow, their mouths deep
In its heavy warmth.
A watcher could fall asleep
Into the depth
Of that untroubled scene.

From each dewdrop morning
To every day's end
They follow the cycle
Of the rhythm of the world turning
In its season. A miracle
Of normalcy is a cow's mind.

Beyond thought's prickling fever
They dwell in the grace
Of their own true concerns
And in that place
Know they will live forever
With butterflies around their horns.


Gentleness as the unattainable. Some pleasant pictures here ("Their gait is half-way between moving and standing still") and no attempt at being spectacular. Kocan, b. 1947, is a strange case of poete maudit: he attempted to assassinate the Australian leader of the federal opposition, and spent ten years in prison and in a psychiatric hospital.