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..
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