The heeler doesn't spare an extra thought
of sheep he moves in regulated rows.
Tucked in grassy rivers flowing elsewhere,
an undulating form that moves as one.
His unmistaken glee is not the outcome
of order brought his Ovis Aries charge.
Unbridled joy he simply garners from
the blinded execution of his job.
The starlings' stunning geometric forms,
ten thousand minds in cheerful concert fly.
If sheep would cast their blue ewe eyes skyward,
would they know there is no maestro in control?
The sheep, en masse, have only ever known
their movement just consigns to greener grass.
They have no understanding of what fate
befalls the weaker members of the flock.
                                                        rc