Tuesday, March 13, 2012

The Lamb

This poem is a tardy response to The Mag 108 photo prompt.

True Story, mostly:


Who is the man with the sheep, she asked,
The man with sheep over there?
She stared at the wall by the door to the hall,
Raised a face framed by white wooly hair.
He's holding a lamb in his arms, she said,
But the light is so bright I can't see.
I think he wants me to come to him.
I think he is calling for me.


  1. A truly beautiful poem Karen. It says so much. Lovely. Thanks for sharing.

  2. That man calls us all at one time or another and it be best to just go when his voice is first heard and not hang on. There beyond him are the pasture lands where the grazing in rest and harmony is done.

  3. Your poem is lovely ... hopefully we have loved ones nearby when we take that walk, ultimately we leave on our own. This reminds me of holding my mother as she passed away and the days leading up to it. She raised her arms one morning and when I asked what she was reaching for she replied 'the stars.'

  4. wonderful rhythm in this... moving words too

  5. Lovely lovely - comforting & eerie all at once.

  6. Oh, if we could only all go this way. Beautiful!

  7. did u ever find out if he is calling for you?

    depth of field

  8. Thanks, everyone. This really took place. She was truly puzzled by who that man was and what he wanted, but she saw him clearly. It gives me great comfort.

  9. A beautiful way to go indeed!

    Anna :o]