We need to draft ewes      from lambs.
Amassing them,
then channelling into race* for selection - 
can be somewhat tricksome.

The assembling yard is prohibitive
in size,
originally designed
for a much grander enterprise
and though sheep are generally,
natural conformists,
choosing to mimic comforting bait ball
when harried,
they are opportunists above all
and thoughts of escape,
when being press-ganged through pertinent gate
will send skitterish hooves
running
in all directions.
Shit!

I recall Toreador,
immediately mute Carmen overture
channel Hemingway* instead
slow-caped-matador turn        
         float body         lengthen line        
         balance on         ball-of-foot         prepare 
         to mesmerise        errant mob        tilt head,
         direct         oxyacetylene-stare,
         approach         with heightened arrogance,
         square-shouldered-Maleficent,
raise
right arm                 POINT!

The mob
all jostling eyes and panting nostrils
consider options:
nah uh
        uh huh
nah uh
        uh huh
nah uh.........yep! 

                         s t r e a m - p a n I c

                left.

*Hemingway - Ernest Hemingway - 'Death in the Afternoon'
*race - A sheep race is a narrow, long holding yard. Ours is two sheep wide and 20 metres long.