Shearing Sheep

[burk28]

Broken fluttering of falling farfalla,
Quick lime mortality
Cocooned in sub zero rooms,
Ether clouds in the cutting dens,
The karakul;
Hysterical from sweat and shaved skin
Subcutaneous wounds dripping in a rhythmic descent
Leaking gutters tapping on empty petrol drums,
In syncope,
Kindred,
Blood and water
The Shearers move about in mechanical fashion,
Flipping, flopping fleece laden targets.
Clipping, cutting, bleating, budding.
Springs ascent in woolen smock
And cloven hoof.
Masticating quietly,
Impervious and innocuous,
Numbness… or might it be enlightenment.
For the shears only cut twice a year.
And as for the rest,
Green grass, and the embrace of rolling meadows.

[mfwilkie]

Hi Burk,

Welcome to the neighborhood.

I've read this through several times and can't get past thinking it needs to start with:

The Karakul, hysterical from sweat and shaved skin,

I can't find a definition for 'falling farfalla'; is it a local term specific to the trade?

Maggie

[burk28]

Thanks for reading and the warm welcome, this was basically a free write. thanks for reading

[birdfeeder]

hi, i like your poem. Especially the second half starting with "The Shearers" I like the ending too, but i might end just with green grass