For Poetry Friday, a poem by Linnea Nelson:
Healing the Pasture
by Linnea Nelson
On our friends’ sheep farm, you pull the half-birthed
sac from a petrified ewe, jostling the slippery form and begging
C’mon little one, wake up, c’mon, c’mon. It lies
motionless, blue, in a mess of blood and amniotic membrane
and there is an impossible stretch of abject moment
during which we acknowledge the newborn is dead. As you
cease your coaxing and compressions,
it splutters, breathes, bleats to the mother
who calls back, and the lamb lives.
When a pasture is leftalone—not required to grow anything—it is said...
read the rest here
More Art 4 All has the Poetry Friday round-up. Thanks, Michelle!
Terrain.org info for high school teachers and others