Ewe, and: One Rarely Sees, and: Still Life with Farm
- Ewe, and: One Rarely Sees, and: Still Life with Farm
EWE
The first ewe lamb was not bornShe appearedUnexpectedExquisitely groomedEach tight spiral of auburn fleeceAs intricate as a watch spring
A Renaissance lambEager to be depicted in oilsAdorning the neck of a shepherdFetching the wooly explorer from her wanderHis tiny chargeTuned to adventureFrom the moment she materializedUnder her anxious mother’s muzzle [End Page 76]
ONE RARELY SEES
One rarely seesA paean to the lymph nodes or liverOr a sonnet for theNitrogen fixing bacteria.
Love and hate run roughshodOver tender pancakes,And what remains for coots and carburetors,No. 2 pencils, multicolored butterbeans?
Poets do not often tendTo the pirouette of the ceiling fanOr whatever it is that makesJelly gel.
Running water “tickles” overPebbles in a streamBut when it trickles from my faucetIts burble merits not a couplet.
Songbirds sometimes earn a verseOf course, or envy,While slender spatulas, whisksRemain unsung
When reallyWhat is more lyrical thanSturdy cotton socksMy toothbrushYour inseam [End Page 77]
STILL LIFE WITH FARM
I may as well lie downAs the pastures slip into their winter greysTin sky, sheep shrouded [End Page 78]
Cynthia Alby is a professor at Georgia College who is devoted to supporting others as they discover the power of teaching as a transformative activity. She writes and creates art on a farm called “Shangri-Baa” where she and her husband raise an endangered breed of sheep and share their home with a crew of rescued dogs.
