Comments about Stug Jordan
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 ...
There are no more than three of them,
neatly unpicked from the cross-stitch
of a yellow country scene,
three strands of beings, fishing –
and rods arched over the river like
small inadequate bridges,
as they sit against the blue, hatted.
And here and there a shallow sound