The Weakest Sheep

The last shepherd

passed by long ago

the day shuts down

soon to blacken its lights

sheep scurry to shelter

in the ancient stone pen

before darkness reclines

on its bumpy bed

they inhabit

a borderline tableau

between dawn and night

between man and the world

rich in layers of promise

and betrayal of life and death

the meadow a lonely

way station brimming

with gloom their dreams

swirl in black and white

fuzzy images of pastures

and escape from the dog

I wonder as they murmur

flank to flank when

their lives will end

without a full coat of wool

without their chattering teeth

I too dream of escape

from the demons of mortality

from the chaos of evil and suffering

that infiltrates the sheepfold

in the dark a gray wolf glides unseen

the dog lies silent the shepherd dozes

soon the pastoral calm will be broken

and the weakest sheep shall fall

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