The Cows Are Out

Scott Whitby, 2020

Such dread

Barely less than fear

The cows are out

I thought the fence was clear

Phone rings

Late Sunday night

They're out again

I knew they might

Daddy says

Those with faces that are white

Can't be kept in

Even for a night

Why do we have them?

They don't like our side

I need to sleep

"Let's get 'em in" he replied

Tore up the corn

Now the neighbor's mad

But now they're back

And Daddy's glad

Though next week

They'll be out again

Same old fences

Won't keep them in

When I get big

Fences'll be good

I'll sleep all night

Like I know I should

I'll feed good grass

Make sure they stay fat

They'll like my side

Stay where they're at

When a car stops

Or a phone rings

So sure they're helping

I won't worry about a thing

They must be the neighbor's

Out in the road

My fences are good

My gates are closed

They can't be mine

So carefully planned

How can it be?

They should like my land

But they're mine

All I can do is chase

And pay the price

For having cows with a white face