the secret
The Secret.
Walked passed the field, where eight sheep
grazed, on my way to woods- I was awed by
this timeless scene, this rustic idyll;
the sheep looked at me with total disinterest,
and that was ok, I wasn’t talking to them;
not without mint sauce.
In the tarn, deep in the woods, I swam with
an inland mermaid, later we sat on a rock,
she, she was bronzed and looked famous.
On my way, back from the tryst, the sheep
were gone, only a pair of mules; blood
glinted on verdant grass and drooling lips
The mules looked at me as to say: “Well,
so we are all depraved, we eat raw sheep
and you sleep with a fish.”
© Jan Osman., all rights reserved.
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