Earth Is a Cyclist

Pause so the cattle being
Herded down from the mesas
To winter pastures don’t spook.

A man waits by their trailer,
Gate opened, foot of the hill.
Two women herd from horseback,

Flanking the trailing cattle.
The cows move straight down the road,
Stepping carefully around

The paused car, keeping side eyes
On it as they amble by.
Only one almost blunders

Horns first into a fender
As she stumbles from the ditch
That passes for a shoulder.

Eye to eye. Eye to eye. Wet
Eyes and muzzles cattle have.
The women chat casually

To each other and gee up
The last calf, take no notice
Of the cyclist who zips through.