Anthropomorphism

They follow their mothers’ directions in every particular

except the universal order: live forever.

 

On steep hills in fog the sheep like minor buffalo

await destruction. Lambs hunch on damp grass;

 

their back legs comfort their front legs.

I swaddled the coffee press in a tea towel

 

& now behold this glass pot of Irish yogurt

with more joy than I’d have given a child of my own.…

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