as in the past, the prod pushes us
sheared sheep assemble in the pen
promised sunlight
the full thaw
mutton breath stretches stiff legs
stunted grass
men and their dog teeth
bark before the inevitable slaughter
the farmhouse leans forward
wooden ribs exposed
to watch the wet stare of spring
1 comment:
just before opening your blog, i thought you had been silent for a while, and lo and behold, i see your new entry. Good to see you!
Post a Comment