COPAKE, New York 1/21/2010

the barn was dark
and cold and old
and drafty with a cement floor
that smelled of manure
the green paint of several years ago
was faded but not gone
this early morning dawn
a dollar late ten thousand shy
a noise like a grown man's sigh
mixed with the 51 cows chewing
in thick exhaled air and mooing
in metal stalls for their early feed
Dean Pierson shot them and watched them bleed
and heard them scream while their eyes
bulged in fright the cries
could be heard long after that last shot
the cold barn felt suddenly hot
and the note that this farmer wrote
was still pinned neatly to an entrance door
securely so he could be sure
it was noticed and found
his rifle rested heavily on the still hard ground
alongside his lifeless Self
the milk buckets useless on a nearby shelf
where old straw, sagging spider webs, and dirt
sat in drifted piles heaped high with hurt.