ewe ain’t seen mutton yet

dVerse poetics prompt to use street names: Mutton Lane, Shoulder of Mutton Alley


 

The town grew up around a humble sheep farm. A stone farmhouse, before they razed it, had stood a hundred years, with sheepfold attached. The last farmer, third generation of sheep farmers in the family, built a butcher shop behind the house to diversify his business. His only son, Marcus, was known as a young boy for his skill at mutton busting (sheep riding) at the local fair. Once, he entered a national competition, winning a trophy which surpassed his own height and glittered like gold. The townspeople ooohed and aahhed when Marcus returned as a local celebrity. The farm and sheep are gone, but Marcus’s grandchildren still live on Mutton Lane and manage the butcher shop adjacent to Shoulder of Mutton Alley.

 

an old stone sheepfold

see one’s breath doing farm chores

bleating of the lambs

 

 

dust to dust

Link to Sammi Cox’s weekend prompt on “destiny”.


no survivors here

man wrestles with destiny

life’s dash etched in stone

listen in cemetery

silence of eternity

“But still, like dust, I’ll rise” – Maya Angelou

IMG_3014

photo by lynn

sentence of the americas

 

Stone-faced Mayan warrior greets

descendants in San Antonio.

 

IMG_0304

photo & american sentence by lynn

 

Linking to Word Press Photo Challenge: “Face”

perfect skipping stone

 

bitterness weighs

like smooth stone

in a deep pocket,

turned over and

over and over, worn

by the long fingers

of hurtful memories;

familiar, uncomfortable

too full of mean-ing.

 

choose to limp

with lumpy baggage

or let forgiveness

reach firmly into

heart’s hidden folds,

remove hard burden

and fling it far,

leaving space

for lighter grace.