When can we be lazy?
like two dogs, with eyes half open;
stretching our legs through the grass,
laying; getting almost nothing done.
We can stab through leaves
with our long legs, noses in the bush;
as happy as a pair of ponies,
released like birds into a muddy field.
Should we complicate the sounds
of the farm with our voices?
like two old cockerels, throwing up songs;
as free as if our wings could fly all day.
Where shall we sleep tonight?
huddled together like mice in a hole;
unobserved by the curious winds
that rattle above ...
A nest is where a bird sleeps,
Feeds and flies from,
Above a black roof –
A kennel, which is where
The dog goes skulking.
And beside it is a house
Where we go
With our dog in the summer,
To hear the birds come home,