Beasts of the Field

He was the resident, I was the 
stranger, intruder, and as we
confronted one another on that
perfect summer day of clear
blue skies and gentle breezes
he lifted his massive bovine
head, eyes fixed on mine,
regarding me quizzically, the
question obvious. He knew what
he was doing in that field in the
company of his species' cohorts
and wondered my purpose in so
rudely interfering their grazing
pasturage causing a commotion
of movement among the herd.
Not entirely oblivious to their
brief consternation as those
powerful beasts re-settled to 
nibbling forage and deciding in
their animal wisdom to simply
ignore the arrogant presumption
of some animals considering
themselves exceptional in nature
by design and capacity. I understood
the beastly infraction I had committed
seated within an iron horse,
implacably humiliating the herd
taking futile exception to my hubris 
and my clicking camera even as 
they fastidiously shunned its eye.