Pasture
by Franci Revel
There was the option to do nothing
But my cheekbones rose so
With polite force
I offered the lamb named Time
A crinoline and blue
Corset with macramé fringe
And detail And staged her beneath
The lamp breath
And in the morning I pierced
The starved ewe
With a red bell It dangled from her
Limp tail With fervor, I loved
She knows this
Now on the porch she is on
Her haunches in a steel bucket
And crooning
While I polish each hoof
And press little moons
Into the wool with my thumbnail
Birds of Paradise guard the porch
Frame we are kept both in and out
And never once maintaining our size
For starving is easier
Said than done