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More poems by Ted KooserTed Kooser | Print this page.Print | View and Write CommentsComments | Books by Ted KooserBooks by Ted Kooser

A Birthday Poem

Ted Kooser

Just past dawn, the sun stands
with its heavy red head
in a black stanchion of trees,
waiting for someone to come
with his bucket
for the foamy white light,
and then a long day in the pasture.
I too spend my days grazing,
feasting on every green moment
till darkness calls,
and with the others
I walk away into the night,
swinging the little tin bell
of my name.

Added: 7 Apr 2002 | Last Read: 23 Apr 2018 1:43 PM | Viewed: 15746 times

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URL: http://plagiarist.com/poetry/4381/ | Viewed on 23 April 2018.
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