I belted out the entire Sound of Music
soundtrack to Denny the cow
while he chewed cud in sync with
Climb Every Mountain
Do-Re-Mi, Edelweiss.
I swear he listened,
even swaying his tail
to the daily tunes.
Then one evening on this dairy farm
in Upstate New York
I inquired about Denny’s
absence from the singalong.
Too late, the mother grinned
as she pointed to
the half-eaten meat on my plate.
Though the Von Trapps
had escaped death
by fleeing, this did not prove
to be poor Denny’s fate.
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