The moon was like a full cup tonight,
too heavy, and sank in the mist
soon after dark, leaving for light
faint stars and the silver leaves
of milkweed beside the road,
gleaming before my car.
Yet I like driving at night
in summer and in Vermont:
......
She must be milked every morning so that she will produce milk, and the milk must be
boiled in order to be mixed with coffee to make coffee and milk.
—Gabriel Garcia Márquez, One Hundred Years of Solitude
Imagine the years being sucked out
of you, the losses so numerous
you counted gains instead: the shiver
of holy water, your quinceañiera,
burnt cedar, the faith in the cross-
......
I'd like to introduce you to my cow.
Her name is Bess.
She has a special talent which
I know you'd never guess.
She's fond of eating chocolate
which I feed her every day.
The chocolate makes her happy so
she starts to swing and sway.
......
The new cow came through the gate,
And her calf came after, a little late.
No longer willing to be led,
The calf went on ahead,
While she stood to look around
Over the hills and lower ground
Stood shyly, defiantly there,
Smelling flower-fragrant air,
And gazed toward the old cows
Grouped on the way before.
......
I'd like to introduce you to my cow.
Her name is Bess.
She has a special talent which
I know you'd never guess.
She's fond of eating chocolate
which I feed her every day.
The chocolate makes her happy so
she starts to swing and sway.
......
The new cow came through the gate,
And her calf came after, a little late.
No longer willing to be led,
The calf went on ahead,
While she stood to look around
Over the hills and lower ground
Stood shyly, defiantly there,
Smelling flower-fragrant air,
And gazed toward the old cows
Grouped on the way before.
......
She must be milked every morning so that she will produce milk, and the milk must be
boiled in order to be mixed with coffee to make coffee and milk.
—Gabriel Garcia Márquez, One Hundred Years of Solitude
Imagine the years being sucked out
of you, the losses so numerous
you counted gains instead: the shiver
of holy water, your quinceañiera,
burnt cedar, the faith in the cross-
......
The moon was like a full cup tonight,
too heavy, and sank in the mist
soon after dark, leaving for light
faint stars and the silver leaves
of milkweed beside the road,
gleaming before my car.
Yet I like driving at night
in summer and in Vermont:
......