It was spring and we had sympathy
For the cows
We vaccinated, castrated, and branded
At night we locked ourselves in
The kitchen
Avoided the outrage

The marker placed, targets
On left flanks
The flipping coin decided
Pihos would be first
I turned the wire red
Over a gas burner
Plunged to his bare iced target

Sizzle of flesh and searing squeal
I pulled back
Not deep enough
Not a lifetime
To remind us

When it was over
We didn’t tell
Six months later
Pihos was dead
They found his scar

I cling to that night
That memory
That scar
I don’t share with anyone