Bawling Cow

This is a poem Todd has seen before with another title.  (So it may be familiar?) In fact, I can't find the other poem. That happens with title changes sometimes, I think. I hate losing a poem! It needed more critique.  Not sure if I made it better or worse, but I started over.   Here it is, needing your eyes and ears.


       Bawling Cow

In the dark of the night.
a cow bawls and bawls.
I lie in a distant hermitage
listening.

My own sorrows swell.

Here, I don’t know what
I’ve wandered into—
unknown skies,
cedar trees, a bawling cow.
Surely brokenness
goes with such a noisy voice.

I contemplate joining the cow.
Maybe if I had an old fashioned,
sobbing time….

The next morning a young nun,
bright-eyed and full of delight,
greets me on the red road.

A calf! a calf was born last night!

Exhausted and blank, I smile
and take a deep breath.
Who can ask for more?

Pat

This reads like part of a longer narrative.  I am not sure that I have the entire story so I am not sure why a new calf is significant news.  The entrance of the nun in the story pushes me to a religious interpretation.

Bawling Cow

Here, I don’t know what I’ve wandered into—
  unknown skies,
   cedar trees, 
  a bawling cow.
Surely brokenness goes with such a noise.

I should join the cow.

I remember this poem! I bet you could find the older version if you go back in the archive of forum discussions.

Where you introduce the nun feels surprising. Like Sukany, I’m not sure why the the nun is there. I think I remember part of the explanation behind the poem, but I think new readers would not know how to interpret that part.

I vote for cutting, but I may not want as much as Sukany did in his reply. I loved that we find out that the calf was born at night. I miss not knowing that in Sukany’s version. (Although perhaps he only meant to show a part of your full poem??)

I really like this poem.

So cut out what happened the next morning.  Just cut out the last 3 stanzas? Let it end with Maybe I should join the cow...
I like that.
No one needs to know the cow is having a calf.
As I was lying there, I did not know what was happening.
Okay!  yes!  helpful.
Really, it's not deep or religious.  She just happened to be a nun at the retreat.  She'd discovered the calf earlier or someone had and told her.
Pain triggers tears.  Anyone's can.  So that was the significant part for me.
The heart of it.
Simple and helpful. 
I thank you both.

Sounds great! I get your reasoning to cut out the other details too. The outcome (the newborn calf) wasn’t your purpose in writing it. We just grieve when we hear others pain and remember our own. Well done! I like this poem a lot.