Fleece therapy in poetry

Grounded and Elevated
or The Healing Power of Fleece

On a low dank day
I urge grudging feet out to the sheep,
my gait stuttering and reluctant.

Eager muzzles seek my waiting cupped palm
for apples or grain.

Grain gone,
my hands delve deep
into their thick, shy fleece.

I come away with the must
of wool and lanolin,
walk easily back toward
my cabin,
my small family,

a little lighter.

HMMooreNiver


Posted for One Shot Wednesday. Curious? Click & see. Go on now.

Uncanny Aim

Uncanny Aim

by HMMooreNiver

Somehow the narrow arrow’s point
aims right
and hits the hidden hollow,
that black splatter
deep in the pink
of your heart.

And why wouldn’t it
head straight
for the one scar
you struggled so hard
to heal
all these years?

The single fissure
you have tried
to forget.

for One Shot Wednesday