one of them didn't eat
the rest munched meadow grass
swished flies against full backs

but she grew thin about the neck
hips jutted     ribs let shadows
rub along her bones  she looked

as they look who have lost themselves
her eyes began to sink and cloud
in all this green abundance

when they had crossed the Irish sea
a sudden storm had run the ship
through seething waves   and they

were tossed against the barricades
against each other  bruised
and shaky legged they disembarked

and loaded onto trailers milled
on mucky straw       jostled and bounced
along the rutted roads were

prodded down the wooden ramps
through gates propped open drunkenly
to rolling seas of pasture

timothy sweet vernal   buttercup
in herd unstoppable she kicked her heels
and unconstrained at last dipped

down her head to taste the rapture after
abstinence  each mouthful made her
snort in pain and toss her head until she stood

neck lowered  motionless  for days
they waited hoped she'd right herself
saw profit melt like fat from bacon rind

the vet found nothing    but the boy
at sixteen years saw what was wrong
her tongue impaled on jagged bone

like Tantalus she stood beneath a tree
until the farmer came with fencing pliers
and pulled the splinter free

Copyright © Janet Sutherland, 2009