David Wood

(07 April 1950 / London)

The Winter Sheep


Welsh sheep bleary eyed
Looking dolefully wide
In the snow field.

Fleece, like steel,
Not letting a drop
Of water touch
Their skin.

The bitter
Cold ground where
Hay lies around, and
A tray of oats, meet
Where sheep's feet
Walk to eat and drink
From an ice covered
Trough.

Bitter winds
Blow cruel as snow
Drifts in whirls bind
All that shows
Winters' cruel mind.

Submitted: Monday, March 25, 2013
Edited: Monday, March 25, 2013

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