I walk with my goats
One by one they follow me
Through the woods we go
I walk with my goats
One by one they follow me
Through the woods we go
Pen touches paper
Gliding up and down in waves
Unspoken words form
A field of thistle
Waiting for the wind to blow
Aloft the seeds fly
The hot sun beats down
Everybody is silent
Hiding in the shade
Sitting quietly
I hear birdsong float on air
Like sweet melody