Rural Farm House. Find it here
You look through the window
You see a field, a line of trees hugging a stone wall.
You spot a tiny lamb, a little calf,
a drove of miniature cattle.
You ask, how do they do it?
How do they shape the world from clay?
How do they pour and cure resin?
How does one breathe life into something so small?
Your eyes focus on a farmer no bigger than your thumb
he moves over a hill, rounds up sheep the same size
as buttons on your shirt.
And you remember as a child playing
in your room surrounded by plastic animals,
a sheepdog, a horse, a brood of hens.
You made them talk and sing
about your life and what it would be.