I am surrounded by faces.
Black faces, red faces, speckled faces…
Snow-covered faces, too.
Faces that won’t stop for a second,
and some that are world champion relaxers.
Furry faces not from this farm but a friend’s…
the sheep farmers wouldn’t notice if they were one less, would they?
Some faces that are sweet but often up to no good,
and a black face that is just as sweet but up to more good.
The one she-human face,
the one manly face,
and the cattle’s view of it all.