Caleb climbs onto the window ledge
And looks out at the animals
Drinking, grazing, loafing.
“Cows,” he tells me, beaming.
These animals have been beasts of
Sorrow, frustration, disappointment
For me.
And yet, as they close out their tenure here,
I feel the regret that Caleb’s delight
Will no longer be right outside the window.
But that’s the way of the world:
No unalloyed joy.
No birth without death.
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