How soft and dumb is the reticence of animals,
as with two llamas, in mahogany wool,
plodding slowly over frozen ground
on a sunny winter morning, taking
what half-thawed grass they can, when the land's bellies
and dips, all stilled, have ceased for months their
breathing forth of wind-catch grass, grain-crowned;
land which now, its crusted over internment
yearning spring's resuscitation, is, like llamas -
though not quite - almost as silent.
No comments:
Post a Comment