The Ram's Horn Poem by April Michelle Wolverton

You worry too much, my Lamb,
with your baa-baa's and
curly snub of tail, bent and
huddled between these humbled thighs.

For you are chastised, a Bellwether,
the orphan of slight appendages,
one shake of head dips the grease,
the other nudges the bullet-

because your scent,
it's just a stench that never ceases.

Your hoof, wonderful and fat,
flattens shoulder, as I rave,
the Quiet Beast, herded away,
so as to never stray.

And how audibly the Shepherd does cringe,
squelching the solvent that sanitizes
the! achoo-achoo!
I puff all over you-

because your touch,
it just isn't what it used to be.

But fret not,
for I do trot-trot,
my Lamb.