4:00a.m.

In bed I am.

All I could see

was him staring at me

The white of his eye

was hung out to dry.

We’re both up now,

lookouts for that cow.

The mooing moon,

Ole Bessie to swoon.

“Maybe she can’t play,

she’s in the ‘Milky Way.’”

He uttered to me,

“Let’s just wait and see.

When milking is done

she will have some fun.”

“She’s over me,” he said.

“She will be soon,” I plead.