Chirin’s Bell

Little lamb, little lamb
You have your bad days
Contaminate
The herd
With a call from beyond
Your reflection in the pond

Should I bare my teeth
Like a coyote cloud
And prod the apple hill on
The hill
Bare my teeth, set my law
Turn my hooves into claws

Waited on your say
I itemize the time you take with your
Indecision
Sometimes I wonder to myself

Did I fuck up with my big plan?
Played itself out, are we nowhere?
Blame myself
Did I fuck up?

A little lamb is what I am
I have my bad days
I long for the pleasant shape of
The herd
Beyond the wooden fence
Can we remain good friends?