by Ethel Mortenson Davis
I can’t remember
when I learned
to love animals,
but it was when
I was very young,
along with my three sisters.
Perhaps it started
when we were called
good-for-nothing girls,
forcing us toward
the animals.
It was where I learned
animals love their young
as much as we love
ours,
when the mother cow,
desperate that night,
cried in low,
hysterical bellows
for her dead calf.
fourwindowspress 
Animals do love their children, this poem is so true and heartbreaking too as so many animals suffer from our ignorance. I remember a black bird trying to safe her young after it fell out of the nest and came into the back of our house. She guided him all the way back into the woods. The sound she made was that of the cry of a mourning person.
This is a wonderful story. Love it. Ethel
Just beautiful Ethel! Yes animals certainly do mourn for their offspring and your poem just cries out to me x
Yes they do mourn. Thanks. Ethel
That’s very simple, and very eloquent Ethel.
Thank you. Ethel
I too love birds and animals
People? … More complicatedly
And frequently (I’m afraid) … Not so much