The poet is Laura Gilpin, who is no longer with us. She was a nurse and an advocate for humanizing hospital care for the terminally ill and she wrote a lot about animals, people, life and death in a way that seems very authentic to me.
So here you have one of my favorite poems, an ode to a summer's night and all its infinite possibilities and tragedies, depending on how you look at things:
The Two-Headed Calf
Tomorrow when the farm boys find this
freak of nature, they will wrap his body
in newspaper and carry him to the museum.
But tonight he is alive and in the north
field with his mother. It is a perfect
summer evening: the moon rising over
the orchard, the wind in the grass.
And as he stares into the sky, there
are twice as many stars as usual.
Tomorrow when the farm boys find this
freak of nature, they will wrap his body
in newspaper and carry him to the museum.
But tonight he is alive and in the north
field with his mother. It is a perfect
summer evening: the moon rising over
the orchard, the wind in the grass.
And as he stares into the sky, there
are twice as many stars as usual.
--Laura Gilpin
from her anthology The Hocus Pocus of the Universe
from her anthology The Hocus Pocus of the Universe
