DON'T BE A GOAT

ONE LAMB

There is only one lamb
with a gate all around him
and he is alone.

—The Child, Wednesday 07 May 2008

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My place of employment is located in an area that is simultaneously suburban and semi-rural. Million dollar mansions to the east and south, farmland to the north, smaller and older homes to the west, and goats across the street. Barns fallen into disrepair sink into patches of blackberry brambles next to pastures filled with cows and horses next to homes that could be from Main Street of Anytown, USA.

As we headed home from said place of employment, the child looked out of the window of the car and stated the above words. More than once. Over and over, as though reciting some sort of mantra. So, I took them to be a poem and laid them out on paper when we arrived at home. I even toyed with adding a few stanzas for a short while, but that only seemed to ruin the original thought.

I am not entirely sure what those words mean, but I like them. I like their rhythm. I like the alliteration. I like the religious imagery that the words conjure forth for me. I am saddened by the loneliness and the implied captivity. I like the simplicity.

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Yes, I know the picture is of a goat (from across the street). Yes, I know the child's poem is about a sheep. It's called juxtaposition.

"All the nations will be gathered before him, and he will separate people one from another as a shepherd separates the sheep from the goats, and he will put the sheep at his right hand and the goats at the left."
—Matthew 25:32–33