|my art sometimes good sometimes not (#^.^#)|
Little LambIn the graveyard you see scattered small headstones.
Not the modern, flat, to the ground, markers,
but the little tombs that have lambs on them.
They are white, or were,
but now they’re stained mostly green and grey.
There is one stone in particular,
around the neck of the little lamb is a small, weathered watch.
The glass and the arms are long gone,
the band is stained.
Her name was Lillian.
She is forever four.
She was born only four years after my grandmother.
|I See I Hear I Watch Every Step You Make|