The sheep does not know/
it is alone, that miles away/
there is a lushness to a land/
beyond its vision,
![](https://i0.wp.com/cutleafjournal.com/wp-content/uploads/2023/11/smillie-smithsonian-53.jpeg?resize=363%2C188&ssl=1)
The sheep does not know/
it is alone, that miles away/
there is a lushness to a land/
beyond its vision,
It’s too early on the ferry, but here I am, buying champagne for breakfast. The attendant at the bar rolls his eyes, or maybe he’s secretly delighted – it doesn’t matter.
In a list on a website Jim had never heard of before, number six instructed grieving partners to “carry on with usual activities.”