The workings of your paddock.

The workings of your paddock.

A Poem by andrew mitchell

The sheep
in your paddock
was me,
how i grazed
on your paddock
until you were
finely cut
to my making.
Then the cow
came along
dumping its impression
on you.
If only I knew
the fence that
held you was
insecure.
I left
not standing
the filth,
while you
remained green.

© 2021 andrew mitchell


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Added on February 28, 2021
Last Updated on February 28, 2021

Author

andrew mitchell
andrew mitchell

adelaide, Australia



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Strindberg said. " When I come home and sit at my writing table, then I live.... I live, and I live in manifold fashion of all human beings. I depict; I am glad with the glad, wicked with the wicked,.. more..