There were these sheep

In the dream

Over to my left

All in a fold

Huddled silently on the grass

In the steady March rain

The way I’d seen cows group

For so many years

In frosty pastures

I was walking on the lane

Past those sheep

They were so near the fence

Against it, practically

Usually they weren’t, I knew.

Then two sheep eyes met mine

A lamb’s eyes

And they bore right through me

As if giving me some kind of message

I felt strange, as if I were

In their grasp almost

Then I realized I’d

Stopped walking

And it became clear: the message

Those little eyes meeting mine conveyed.

“Oh yes, I’m coming back.

Don’t you take it lightly,”

They said.

Then I resumed walking

Down the lane

But all day I saw those grasping

Little eyes of that lamb.