Walls

In this place
The lord hath not tempered
The wind to the shorn lamb.

The dry stone wall
Soaked beyond greyness 
Huddles the lamb  and ewe.

"There is something 
That does not love a wall."
Says the poet.

Tell that to the shepherd.

There are walls within walls
Walls of silence
Walls of ignorance and hatred


There are walls to climb
And on the other side
Is found freedom and another country.

This is a simple wall
And by it the ewe and lamb
And we give thanks for its shelter.
On wield and downland
Field and fell
It is a faithful friend.

JL July 9 11:56