The ring

Not one rock.

A ring of rocks.

Looming and vanishing through the sweeping cloud.

In the centre, the world grows briefly still. The sun shafts down.Everything shines.

And suddenly,

sheep

dance across the open ring, wiggling absurdly, their fleeces wet with dew.

They’re everywhere, bleating, and then they’re gone.

And they leave me laughing.

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