Its frosty, cold and sharp
The sky has an orange tone
and the puddles of standing water have frozen shut.
The sheep sit huddled in bundles on the spiky, sharp grass
Like me, they are waiting for the temperature to rise
and the sun to break above the horizon.
I look more closely
It’s a surprise to see that some of the sheep
even in this cold, have already been on the move.
There is a patch on the frozen ground
A clear space not sharpened by the frost
A cloud shaped mark where a sheep once lay
Willing the cold night to end.