A stranger came by.
He wore an ox head.

It was not decoration.
He was not a minotaur.

He flourished
grazing under the oaks.

He loved the mix
of autumn grass and acorns.

He grazed in our yard
for an hour only.

He stepped
through the twilight

into another world
where I hope

he found a woman
who wore an ox head.

copyright © 2021 Kenneth P. Gurney