When a View Can Eat You Up There are times when a sheep will stare at you and you stare right back, the big sky overhead, tussock waving on the hills and you hope no one is watching as you crouch down to stare at the sheep, hoping for some sort of connection and you remember the greasy lanolin feel of a fleece, the spinning wheel that bumped away from you until you got the hang of teasing the wool, picking out the burrs, the odd thistle, dreaming of socks and knitted vests and your old man in the kitchen heaping the wood range full of manuka logs and not looking at you because there was another woman he was thinking of and you in your anguish feeling the same as the ewe in the painting by August Schenck; a dead lamb in the snow, a circle of crows and beyond that the shadowy shape of wolves. Frankie McMillan Frankie McMillan is a poet and short fiction writer from Aotearoa New Zealand. Her work has appeared in Best Small Fictions and Best Microfictions. Her latest book, The Wandering Nature of Us Girls (CUP) was published in 2022.
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October 2024
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