Freedom

In my hometown
a one-year-old calf—
white, thin, small—
like a wish whispered
from a young mouth into an adult ear—
was torn to pieces
by wild stray dogs
on the very day
she was set free
for the first time,
led out by the caretaker
for a walk.

I fear this kind of freedom—
where the light falls everywhere,
and I must guess
which parts don’t belong to the land—
and which parts of me
might not make it back.