Happiness # 2

The sun’s relentless. Bordering on the path
the grass is yellow, limp, and on the trees
the leaves show autumn prematurely, dry

and tasteless. As I walk along I feel
the sand invade my shoes, and where the sweat
runs down my neck I know the dirt will stick.

And then a sound approaches, clang of bells:
the sandy soil throws up a dusty veil
around a mass of sheep that make their way

down to the river, followed close behind
by one old shepherd and three sprightly dogs –
there’s work for you! And as I wait, and greet

the shepherd with a wave (he couldn’t hear
my words for all the din) I realize
how everything concurs – the stifling heat,

unhurried shepherd, and the parching leaves,
those sheep half-running in a cloud of dust
and slow contentment dawning with their bleat.