Tuesday, 12 April 2016

Winter Milking

Winter Milking

I lay alone, broken open to the chill of the night. I lay on the Molasses Tank. I watch the cloudless night sky. Gazing at the bleeding expanse of stars. Enclosed on all sides by the earth that received my body. My soul entered the night. Relaxing... calm... gentle... sweetly sensing the silence of stars, staring in suspense from far above. A slight breeze bellows through me as I exhale subtly. The song washes through my thoughts, 'Twinkle, Twinkle little star.' I sigh and smile with a joyful expression. The wind whispers through my fragile ears. A cold shiver wriggles up my spine as I sit up on the warming tank.

Dad calls me from the motorbike to hurry up. Quickly, I call after him as I leap down and jog to Dad. Hugging his side, snuggling into his body protecting my precious skin. Speeding through the snow globe of stars. The wind hugging me. The dusty race dries hard and stable. We arrive at the medium-sized metal gate that was hanging staturesque when the tearing string heaves it to complete perfection. We hear the munching of cows clumsily ripping the grass with their tongues. Chewing and pulling grass for their entisive appetite. "Good night cows," I whisper generously.

Dad and I arrive home at the darkest of night, the moon glowing bright. As soon as we come inside our bodies are immediately comforted with the desirable reassurance that the warmth brings. We hear the creeping and sneaking of minature creatures in the home paddock and gardens. I snuggle into bed with the thick duvet and blanket covering my stiff shoulders. I rest my cool head on my fluffed pillow. After a few moments Dad comes and kisses me goodnight. "Sweet dreams Dad."

By Asarina

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