Sheep

when we appear at the gate

their bleating starts

calling of ewes to lambs

lambs to ewes

locating each other in panicked calls

so anxious are they at our arrival

~

a pair of sturdy lambs burrow under a ewe

knocking the flighty beast off-balance

pull hard at her teats for comfort

lambs who already feed happily on grass

who merrily join patrols of this pasture

party to a gambolling gang

who normally ignore the stark-shorn ewes

lined by tines of electric shears

that have scored their skinned fleece pink

~

When our red quad-bike appears

these adolescent lambs cry

for more mother’s milk

perhaps instinctively aware

of what drives our human kindness

~

CLP 27/06/2021