pica_pica

im thinking of that day in Crete. The day Niko had me working close to the village.
i was able to walk to the steppes. I carried my scythe and put the bailing twine in my back pocket.
i walked the only path out of the village,
balancing heel to toe in the right cart wheel track rut.
it was already 30 degrees, no breeze, but a cicadas serenade and
a suddenly screaming lamb.
left of me, an old wall made of stones stood
a bit over 6 feet and the screaming was behind it.

i walked over and tip toed, trying to peer over.
i saw a fat greek mother squatting.
she held it on its back by its legs. She had all four of them
in her right hand, her left
under its chin, pinning the head back
father sawed with what became apparent was a dull blade.

i know that, because halfway through the screaming
when he had already split the red valentine with a capital V
he stood and walked off to the shed to sharpen the knife.
the screaming went on for a while.