Wendy Drexler
| poetry

    "All actual life is encounter." Martin Buber


The cows look slowly up,
flick flies with their tails,
with their ears, the whole
of their flanks twitching
like wind through wheat.
They stamp their feet, shrug
their shoulders. They come
close to the wire. They
walk away. Their heads
are warm and swarming
with damnations of flies,
which they bear stoically.
Maybe they are burning up
inside. Maybe they want
to jump out of their hides.

Wendy Drexler’s poems appear, or will shortly, in Barrow Street, Mid-American Review, Nimrod, Prairie Schooner, and the Hudson Review. She has a book, Western Motel (2012,Turning Point). A three-time Pushcart Prize nominee, she is a poetry editor for the MA Audubon Society.

A Short History of Flowers
Green Land