Three Sons and a Cow

may I trade a cow’s skull
cracked, stained
half the jaw gone
for your dirty T-shirt?
it reminds me of oil-rags
and sons, bums up
over the engine of an old truck
(we called it Job
because of rusted sores
on the wheel casings)

the cow’s skull used to be
nailed over a barn door
to remind us
of days when we first farmed
the warm land
we have moved
the young men gone
and I would trade a cow
for three sons at home