The goat was injured.
A winsome, all white
A winsome, all white
Or all black, smooth fur.
A head injury
A small swollen spot
Covering the sanguine rush
She died.
We got ready to bury her
Some bones were shattered
Not ours
Cuddling into it, her death,
Soon she passed out of memory
It's more peaceful this way,
The goat telephoned to say.