Cows Do Not Understand Love
Ten
What is love, if not the sun soaked butt of a cow waiting for storms that never come?
Do they know that, in tipping, they fall closer to center with each muddy splat?
What is love, if not the bizarre juxtaposition of this prompt, where we ask what love is, coupled with this photo of a cow in a field? I do not love cows, therefore, I do not understand love.
I love the title. As the photographer of this shot, I was anxious to read this and you did not disappoint. Your first line is great and it only gets better. (FYI, this was taken during a heat wave in Europe and the cow would have loved a storm. Maybe love too.)