I believe this unusually coloured cow is referred to as Mousey, but I find it is best not to get attached.
Golden
Golden lay light upon the sill
after lunch, after school.
Day lingers slowly, a patch of light,
time pursues day retreats
but the moving trail is still new
and I wonder at the golden pool.
The window still speaks of sun
after night after years, decades of time
I see that golden time, still.
Guy
One of my older poems.
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