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Collected Poetry

    (rd king dot net)
poetry and digital art

Beating Heart, Dancing Feet  

  Heaven's Gate 


The angel of mercy for this herd of meat cows
was a big, cement mixer.  A clear, winter morning

on the old state highway as I followed behind,
the mixer found some ice, leapt the ditch

and vanquished the fence that had kept those cows
in pastoral servitude.  But the cows that morning

stood six feet from the road.  The big mixer
met them broadside while angels sang in fortissimo.

Blood flowed and their bodies broke; mud flew with
hooves and viscera.  Seraphs lead them through the fence

and across the highway and beyond the rancher's house
to that other pasture where they had longed to graze.



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