Dead lamb

This lamb must have gone over the banks and drowned. Its last minutes…when it realised it could not get back to the grass: did it fight against its fate, bleating and thrashing in the foam? 

That may well have been. But as it lay on the shore, frozen but dusted with sand, its legs already carrion for the skuas, there was a peace about it. 

I sat beside it and as the tide sighed in and out and felt eased by what seemed like a tender, quiet acceptance  in its shiny black eyes.

It was only when I got up to go that I realised they were no longer there. They were two black holes. I could have sworn I saw them glisten.

© Shona Main 2010

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