The Bluestocking 2023-24

Shirley Ren Grade 11 Sonnet for a Sheep

The red sun glares upon the wrinkled rocks, Standing sturdy, immovable, and smooth. Not higher than thirty from the sea docks, Out tumbles from my gums, a pretty tooth. Trying to glue it back on again, I Can’t help but cry for how things were before. Observing them eat the black sand so dry, I cry for the seagulls along the shore. She wept for her mom and begged for her dad. Not a pigeon could bring the old her back! She asked the sky, "but why are you so mad?" A bone and a reason she would still lack.

Atop linen sheets she stressed without sleep, The night sky whispered, "start counting the sheep!"

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