Think Again

09 September 2021

https://poems.culturing.net/2021/09/think-again/

The beginning of another day,
this one not unlike the last,
and yet as though some child
forgets the form,
it differs.

Up upon a hill,
the sheep go wandering.

Nearby cars zoom thoroughly
over the highway.

Not a few sheep find themselves
in drivers' seats
at eighty miles-an-hour.

Would they not prefer to graze
on some unfettered hillside,
near the setting sun?

They are still sheep,
though silly ones.

I think that they should think again.
The hillside is still there,
though it has changed.

It grows less full,
but some say
this is part of its purpose.

The cars must make their noise
where wandering sheep once spoke
of pleasing vistas, unknown springs.