Carl Sandburg - Sheep

Thousands of sheep, soft-footed, black-nosed sheep-- <br />one by one going up the hill and over the fence--one by <br />one four-footed pattering up and over--one by one wiggling <br />their stub tails as they take the short jump and go <br />over--one by one silently unless for the multitudinous <br />drumming of their hoofs as they move on and go over-- <br />thousands and thousands of them in the grey haze of <br />evening just after sundown--one by one slanting in a <br />long line to pass over the hill-- <br /> <br /> I am the slow, long-legged Sleepyman and I love you <br />sheep in Persia, California, Argentine, Australia, or <br />Spain--you are the thoughts that help me when I, the <br />Sleepyman, lay my hands on the eyelids of the children <br />of the world at eight o'clock every night--you thousands <br />and thousands of sheep in a procession of dusk making <br />an endless multitudinous drumming on the hills with <br />your hoofs.<br /><br />Carl Sandburg<br /><br />http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/sheep-3/