Woolly flanked,
Two run,
Along barren roads.
Until ushered.
Caught.
Gated.
Control regained.
But I imagine
A bolt for freedom.
A planned escape.
A dream
Of fielded peace.
Bathed sunshine
And avoidance
Of human hands.
Only the self
And creaturely
Fulfilment.
Old age.
Naturalistic.
Not - body as
Object.
Aged in nature.
Fermented in own species
And scented world.
Two woolly flanks,
Run.
© 2024 J.H. Dickinson
Go on to: Slumber
Return to Poetry, Essays and Art By J.H.
Dickinson
See Artwork by J.H. Dickinson
Read more at Animal Rights Poetry