Wind and Rain

We came to the back of the barn
and there we found it,
a dead calf.

We looked at the calf a moment
and then at each other.

The wind coming off the sea
scattered remnants of hay
and tugged at our clothing.

We had a warm house to get back to.
It was about to rain.
It wasn't our calf.

Copyright © 2003 Knute Skinner All rights reserved
from Stretches
Salmon Poetry / Dufour Editions
Reprinted by Verse Daily® with permission