big mountain’s revenge

on our retreat from the canyon trish notices
how the brown sheep keeps pausing to lay down
about to give birth and once she makes it
to the corral, sure enough, she lays her wooly body down
and begins grunting
big mountain’s revenge baigz says when i
give him the stomach/digestion report
trish and i perched on canyon’s west side
in the cool of a cloudy sky while
the flock grazes slow below
we snack on salt-sweet trail mix
and she talks about attachment
how intimate partnerships bring out/push on
our parental issues/dynamics the most
of any relationships
baigz, trish and i counting
thirty eight corraled sheep
at the end of the day
over and over
slightly panicked unable to find
the thirty-ninth
relieved when bessie reveals the thirty-ninth
has been borrowed
pre-sunset sendoff with cell phone cord tutorial
and then it is keith and i
hauling wood, hauling water, cleaning up from dinner
and then it is just me in dusk-light
busy with the business of detail-collecting and
tending to the snack-attacks by feeding them
fryless fry bread and peanut butter
fryless fry bread and cheese
forkfuls of kimchee
might not be my life’s calling i say
of sheep herding and the agitation
when the sheep don’t respond
by doing what we ask
the hum-crackle and orange glow escaping
the unsealed edges of wood/coal stove
plus the tick-tock of living room clock
marking time in the solar-powered flourescent lamplight


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