The path knew before the footstep;
even before the ghost of a shape
passed above the stones and mud.
From weed-watch, wilderness eyes
followed shadows through wood;
breath held at the slow trespass.
The sun saw before the trees heard,
the flesh and blood, armed in fibres;
invading, foot first, through this garden.
Even before the smells of the sheep
were detected in the cold red nose
that same face walked oblivious in nature.
And the voice that runs over fields
would recognise the words of winds
before the lips had a chance to tremble.
The gate shut before the hand reached;
turning hinges above a hoof-print
that laughs in mud at the step of a shoe.
Awareness... animal instinct.....wonderful writing, suspensful? This is a really good writing...The gate shutting before the had reaches. Just awesome!
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
This poem is very good I must say