A friend from the blogosphere is publishing 100 poems in 100 days. I’ve decided to at least try to do that, and I’m going to try to catch up with her by publishing multiple poems per day for a week or so. While in Scotland just about 30 days ago, riding along in a tour bus, I marveled at the ubiquitous sheep and the beautiful landscape out the window.
In Southern Scotland
Sheep dot grassy fields,
Their sides shagging wool.
Clouds scud through skies,
Like inverted sheep, woolly
sides down. Dark ones
Sprinkle naturally holy water:
Priests of nature, they
Remind all—sheep, cows,
Tourists in buses—of our
Divine brotherhood.
all the voices in my head 