"This is a story of a sheep..."

This is the story of a sheep, -

the one unnoticed, next in line.

You closed your eyes and fell asleep,

and left off at two-hundred-nine.

Two-hundred-tenth one looked around,

but all the other sheep were gone.

Someone somewhere had missed a count,

and there he was – an extra one.

“Where should I go?” He though aloud,

and schlepped along across the yard.

Someone somewhere had missed a count,

and he, alone, was caught off guard.

The wolves were howling at the moon.

He felt a shiver down his spine.

How could you leave the job so soon,

and doze off at two-hundred-nine?

Each choice we make is consequential,

and those in bed must understand

that if the order is sequential,

you have to see it to the end.

Among the shadows, he felt small.

The temperatures were falling lower.

If you must count, - count till all

have been accounted for twice-over.

Now fast asleep, you didn’t budge,

you didn’t rush to his assistance,

but never one to hold a grudge,

he watched the sun rise in the distance.

And though he found it alone, -

the view he saw was paramount.

He knew, when counted upon,

he’d always be there for the count.

Just then, you yawned, and with a smile,

recalled you dream, still half-a-sleep -

green pastures spreading out for miles,

and on them grazed a single sheep.