The Cows

I miss the tiny yellow fish that nibbled on my feet, the silvergrass that cut open my fingers and arms in the mountains, the seawater hot spring on a raining summer morning before sunrise, the squid that I never caught on a night fishing boat, the beautiful scenery when I was on a propeller plane across a myriad of lakes, the goats on the steep hills by the ocean on the island with a double heart-shaped fishing trap, the waterfall far in the mountain with few people swimming underneath it, the two kids that liked to hold my hands when we walked to a movie theater, the sunburn that I get every year, and definitely the cows that witnessed everything.


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