ACROSS THE SAND
My mother lets down the bars
of the sheep corral.
The flock crowds around her.
The goats look at me.
I think they are saying,
"We know where we are going."
The little lambs
walk close by their mothers.
They are like me,
they do not know
if they will like this place
where we are going.
My mother and I,
we drive our sheep
across the sand.
My grandmother
stands at her door
looking after us.