Driving home as if on a blind date

on a familiar route with an unfamiliar someone

tiring the poor astigmatic eyes which  anyways registered little

a dark cloud suddenly descended

and the  rush was halted.

Impatient honking and cursing followed

on a rather cool November evening

men& women, rushing as if on a death row halted.

There she stopped

unfazed

by bright lights

or crowded streets

majestically turning to glance at

poor, wretched humans.

Patient, unhurried, even if death herself called

she stood rooted

until they came, the two calves

bewildered by the evening rush on the roads

eager to reach home for some rest and some sleep

touching  her tits, rubbing closely

for warmth and love.

She then  turned,slow and steady

a movement in magnificence

allowing her children to step ahead

she waited.

A swish of the tail later

she blended into darkness,the beautiful buffalo.