Riding With Cows

Cattle take no sabbath

neither do I.

We both take the same one-lane road early Sunday morning.

We make room for each other although

a black Angus could crush me if it cared.

It does not care.

One white teenaged bull races

me, running alongside my 21-speed,

looking over its shoulder directly into my sunglassed eyes.

I pass it.

I do not look back.