“I am your little ram, burying his muzzle in thick grass of your pasture, folded by you at night, herded by day, a dedicated dog nipping at my hocks. The day will come for you to draw the bright sickle of the moon across my wooly throat. Do it with love, without regret.” LoveDeathRegret Book:The Earth Avails: Poems Source: The Earth Avails: Poems