contrast
Walking down the dirt path, I pause to look at the sheep
I grab the rusty metal fence
And it feels as if it could cut my hands if I were to grip it’s rough surface any harder
I let go, and stare at the sheep
Their white, soft coats muffled out by the overcast sky and the rough brown barn
Not concerned, not distressed about anything
Simply eating the freshly cut grass
And occasionally being nagged by a needy lamb.
I walk a little farther down the road to see a small dog
With sharp teeth and a crazed look in his eye
Who runs after the sheep,
Who seem slightly threatened by this frightening creature
The farmer calls his name, and he walks away from the sheep who he likes to tease
Next to the sheep is a pile of grey rocks
With bright purple flowers growing out of the core,
Contrasting the rocks like the sheep’s coats against the rough barn and overcast sky
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