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Miceal Kearney
Poems
Aug 2010
5 Heifers
all winter housed in the yard. Fed
the freshest silage, the cleanest water.
All the nuts they could eat.
But they’d hang their heads by the gate,
longed for earth between their hooves.
Hard to run giddy on concrete
between confining walls.
Eventually beaten with hurlies
and a black pipe
onto the back of a truck.
5 heifer hang from hooks.
Written by
Miceal Kearney
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