A love story

In kindergarten
she wore the horse head
and I wore the cow’s
We both mooed because
horse sounds were tough

She left town the next month
and the horse head lay there,
in a corner of the classroom
looking sad and collecting dust

We met again in our twenties
She fiddling with her coffee mug
and I chasing away steam from my tea
She pretended to be a horse

and I felt like I was being a cow
We both just mooed shyly

In our thirties I found her with a horse head
So I put on the best cow head I had
We sat quietly mooing with our eyes
There wasn’t much to say anyway

We met recently again in kindergarten
Her son was wearing a cow head
and my daughter chose a cow head too
In a corner lay an old horse head,
looking sad and collecting dust