On a Grassy Hill
I went to the countryside and fell in love with sheep.
Even at this late date.
A city girl wanted to weave
a new fabric for living.
Run with them,
Lie with them,
Shear them.
Touch the lanolin,
Feel the softness,
Smell the rawness.
Look into those eyes,
Dye the wool.
Weave a shawl or blanket,
and crawl under it
Close to the earth
on a grassy hill
In Gloucestershire,
I slept.
Copyright © Karen Price | Year Posted 2006
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