The female llamas make sucking
noises as they drink.
They bat their tails sideways.
As they bed down, the creek’s waves
roll over their coats in laps.
They moisten their necks on the rocks
and rub their wool clean.
The males press their chests
into fence wire.
An oak tree shades them,
its taut leaves balanced in the wind.
A single tug and the acorns drop.