Milking Time

Thrum, thrum,
Milk drumming on the bottom of my pail,
The squeezing rythm of my two hands,
The lazy movement of the cow's tail.

Swish, swish,
My milking pail is almost half-way filled.
Eyes closed, I rest my head on the cow's flank,
My wriggling toes are getting chilled.

Sud, sud,
My pail overflows with creamy milk-foam.
I turn the cow into her warm stall,
Then, on frozen feet, I hobble home.


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