The Red Clay Cow

My clay cow stood there and stared at me
with its endless black eyes
piercing through my own.
The green valleys of Switzerland
are the homes of these beautiful creatures
and the home of my clay cow, too.

I adore my small clay cow
for its red glossy skin that resembled
the red money bag I received in Hong Kong,
and the pale white crosses painted over its body
to resemble the Swiss flag.
I loved the small, brass cowbell that hung around its neck.
It reminded me of the golden statue
built in front of the Buckingham Palace

I wrap my frail fingers around the fragile animal,
and take it off the table in the waiting area gate
and placed it in my backpack.
I boarded the aeroplane
and waited until my clay cow and I arrived
in our next destination.