It is now the monsoon time of finest grass
With our tails chasing the flies off the road,
On leisurely afternoons of soft cud chewing.
The road divider promises a heavenly place
For us cows, with fine breeze from passing
Vehicles gently kissing our shivering hides.
We are wondering where they are all going.
As they whiz past our contemplative bodies,
Breeze from their speed perks up our skins.
Our squatting bodies are surprises on cars
A screech of their brakes spoils our mood.
But we’ll forget and forgive human follies.