Thousands of sheep, soft-footed, black-nosed sheep -- one by one going up the hill and over the fence -- one by one four-footed pattering up and over -- one by one wiggling their stub tails as they take the short jump and go over -- one by one silently unless for the multitudinous drumming of their hoofs as they move on and go over -- thousands and thousands of them in the grey haze of evening just after sundown -- one by one slanting in a long line to pass over the hill -- I am the slow, long-legged Sleepyman and I love you sheep in Persia, California, Argentine, Australia, or Spain -- you are the thoughts that help me when I, the Sleepyman, lay my hands on the eyelids of the children of the world at eight o'clock every night -- you thousands and thousands of sheep in a procession of dusk making an endless multitudinous drumming on the hills with your hoofs. | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...YOUNG BLOOD by STEPHEN VINCENT BENET THE LOON ON FORRESTER'S POND by HAYDEN CARRUTH UNTITLED, 1968; FOR MARK ROTHKO by JAMES GALVIN BRIGHTNESS AS A POIGNANT LIGHT by DAVID IGNATOW THE WILLOW by GEORGIA DOUGLAS JOHNSON |