Sheep In Fog

 The hills step off into whiteness.

People or stars
Regard me sadly, I disappoint them.


The train leaves a line of breath.

O slow
Horse the colour of rust,

Hooves, dolorous bells ----
All morning the
Morning has been blackening,

A flower left out.

My bones hold a stillness, the far
Fields melt my heart.


They threaten
To let me through to a heaven
Starless and fatherless, a dark water.

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