The Ewes Must Still be Fed Warm fireside is what he wants, but he is out in snow under a setting sun night gathers at the horizon the ewes must have their hay. He is out in snow under a setting sun his back is sore and fingers numb the ewes must have their hay before he can go home to rest. His back is sore and fingers numb there’s no heat from the pale sun before he can go home to rest he still has this work to do. There’s no heat from the pale sun its light fingers grope through trees warm fireside is what he wants, but he’s in the cold, with hay for hungry sheep. Marius Grose Marius studied fine art at Bristol Polytechnic graduating in 1981 with a BA Hons degree in sculpture. He then made a career shift into broadcast television, becoming a freelance editor. Marius has worked on factual and entertainment shows, documentaries and feature films. Always interested in writing and story telling Marius has written screenplays for film and television. Since 2016 has been writing poetry and reading his work at open mic nights. He has had poems published in the literary arts journal Dream Catcher and in the ezine 192.
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November 2024
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