Shy Breeder

The heifer is in heat but
she won’t take the bull.
He lumbers after her, dark,
heavy, old but alive to his work. 
He rubs against her, licks her
to persuade her to stand. But
she feels muscles contract as
he gathers to mount her and
runs away. Across the pasture
through the herd she shies from him
burning with her need. He is wet
with the sweat of pursuit but
bound to his calling. She stands
at station after station but
is nimble in escape. He crowds her
in a corner where two fences meet,
licks her, rubs her, lays his
heavy head on her back to weigh her
down. She squats, open in her torment.
His sheath drips, suddenly charged
with fury he mounts on his hind legs,
reaches with forelegs to clasp her,
foam flies from his muzzle but
she whips from the corner and he sinks
empty-handed and stands alone.