Here is a poem for our animal friends.
Sad eyes
At the lights, I find myself looking into his eyes –
Sad eyes.
Jostled from behind, his head pushes against the slats of the truck.
Is that pain on his face – or is it my own guilt?
Looking, flinching, remembering…
It’s veal stir-fry tonight.
Anna Pope, 24 January 2003
annapope 