Bovine
A field has sprung up on the first floor landing
where a bull cranes his large-boned head
towards her, disbudded horns nudging the wool,
sunlight tinkering through the grasses.
She tries to coax him, wheedle him down
with fresh greens. But now
he holds her with his black stare …
head lowered, blood beating, thunder
about to bellow through the walls
as the clock hand shudders … her life
a cardboard box of limits, of scales,
tape measures and set squares;
so when the bull-browed god strolled in –
bull god of rain and fecundating power,
of exuberant storm winds – she saw
only bovine; then stricken
in his glare, she’s held there.
Linda Rose Parkes was born in Jersey, Channel Island, and studied literature at U.E.A. Poet and lyricist, her third collection Familiars was published by Hearing Eye in November, 2014.