Agnus Dei by Marty Smith

I carried the lamb in a sack on my horse

the tongue hanging grey and limp.

It’s buggered, said Dad, throw it in the
creek.

The creek leaped, dimpled. Small bubbles

whirled, it rumpled where I was looking

the water shadowed half-blue-black



deep just there with duckweed floating out

the yards behind all noise, the