Lost lamb

She comes upon it crying in the aisle
Between two hawthorn hedges,
Dazed with abandonment.
Its mother must have wandered on
To browse, oblivious, and so,
Between awareness and awareness,
Its whole world vanished.
It quietens in her arms, heart
Beating like a disco floor,
And chews the velcro of her jacket.
Its head smells sweeter than shampoo.
She is Security, and will return it
Whence it came, but just for this
Brief moment it is hers.
Published in The Writers' Magazine Issue 2