The late September sun
Bathed the water
meadow
As sheep graze the lammas
In stark relief against
the blue
Like a great golden
arrow
The spire points
heavenward
The late September sun
Bathed the water
meadow
As sheep graze the lammas
In stark relief against
the blue
Like a great golden
arrow
The spire points
heavenward
The late September sun
Bathed
the water meadow
As
sheep graze the lammas
In
stark relief against the blue
Like
a great golden arrow
The
spire points heavenward