by Nolan Bennett
These sheep,
Watch them as they slowly stagger
Zigzagging in and out of the grass
This grass that they call their home
Standing tall, tickling their bellies as they graze.
It sways in the wind
As they trample over it repeatedly.
The sheep,
They live their lives carelessly wandering,
No place in particular on their minds.
Innocent and without fault,
They’ve got the whole world in front of them.
Without a worry or care in the world
They go day to day
Just casually roaming.
I sometimes wonder if they have a sense of time, a mind, or at most a soul.
Don’t spend too much time thinking about the unknown though.