Sheep notes from a floodplain meadow

We have boarded the rowboat
And there is no getting off,
Is it worthwhile-
Above all, will it save our lives?

I write now only because
There is an inner voice in me,
That will not be silenced;
But for our scars and tattered wool,

Peel off the sheep’s clothing
O our enemy!
You terrified and almost barbecued
Our chops, our legs, our shanks.

It is our meadow, but not on a plate,
You came disguised trailing the telltale
Tatter of a laundry tag;
Instead of a baa, you howled;

And then you charged for a bit of blood,
A piece of meat- to what extent did you intend?
Never, never, never will you reach perfection
If you cannot spot another wolf in sheep’s clothing!

Copyright © 11/28/18 lance sheridan®

Sheep notes from a floodplain meadow

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