Rik George writes

The Old Ewe 

Rain on the shed 
sizzles like a kettle 
beginning to boil. 
The old ewe 
scrapes crippled hooves 
through the dung on the floor. 
She begs the mercy 
of a bullet in her ear. 
A mourning dove 
cries once in the rain.
Standing Ewe -- Karen Kinder