Caravan of Sheep

The Sheep are nearly to the gate but seem to wait, their shepherd’s late, some are bleating loudly now, others grazing, humbly bow some are wandering far away Shepherd unaware they stray some seem to blame the lowing cows caravanning from the south escaping slaughterhouses foul her calves are bleating weakly now mother, tired, licks their brow hoping shepherds from the North will meet them kindly with food and work she doesn't see the sharp pitchforks and what these shepherds have in store..