THE MOONSHEEP
The moonsheep stands upon the clearing.
He waits and waits to get his shearing.
The moonsheep.
The moonsheep plucks himself a blade
returning to his alpine glade.
The moonsheep.
The moonsheep murmurs in his dream:
'I am the cosmos' gloomy scheme.'
The moonsheep.
The moonsheep, in the morn, lies dead.
His flesh is white, the sun is red.
The moonsheep.
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The moonsheep stands upon the clearing.
He waits and waits to get his shearing.
The moonsheep.
The moonsheep plucks himself a blade
returning to his alpine glade.
The moonsheep.
The moonsheep murmurs in his dream:
'I am the cosmos' gloomy scheme.'
The moonsheep.
The moonsheep, in the morn, lies dead.
His flesh is white, the sun is red.
The moonsheep.
-