The Sheppard
A thunder, rolling, pitches and growls.
The Sheppard, leading, his sheep and fowls.
A precarious steep, crosses and twists;
Escape and evasion, a hunter's grip.
Closer and closer, clouds do come.
The rain and sleet, the coming undone.
Awakening and edgy, the wolf howls.
The bark, the hackles, a fright in the fowls.
Stretching and moving, The Sheppard prepares.
Warming and coughing, ready affairs.
As rain arrives, at first as a mist.
The wind picks up, as if in a fit.
Seizing his flock, his staff, and girth;
Ready for worship, ready for birth.
The boom, the splash, darkness arrives.
The sheep, the fowls, those are his lives.
Thrashing and stabbing, a predator is felled.
Retreating and taunting, they have his smell.
Virtues of cardinal, those are his truth.
Protection, survival, that is his ruse.
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