I thought this afternoon I should post a piece by an American Poet. This one is by Robert Francis. I like it very much. Ironically it reminds me of my trip to the Island of Harris, Scotland last summer with my dear friend, Hoff. I would like to dedicate this one to him.
From where I stand the sheep stand still
As stones against the stony hill.
The stones are gray
And so are they.
And both are weatherworn and round,
Leading the eye back to the ground.
Two mingled flocks -
The sheep, the rocks.
And still no sheep stirs from its place
Or lifts its Babylonian face.