Getting my goats

 

I am coming for my goat,
the one you got years ago
through the gate I left open.

The best, the cashmere
with exquisite wool:
fine as silk,
soft as whispers.  

I miss her too much.

You may have instead,
for a time,
this pygmy. Wool
like steel, true,
but look: cute
as a button.

If you keep her in your house,
she will pee on your carpet,

after which

I will fetch
her home to
the field of play,
where goats belong.  

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Tags: agriculture, anger, forgiveness, goats, harm, humor, livestock, poem, poetry, schadenfreude, spirituality