So absorbed in placing my feet
on tussocks, that I didn't notice the donkeys
until one brayed -
ten or more in the higher field,
and straight ahead the farmer,
a sprite eighty-something,
coming to meet me at the gate.
Pleased that I live in Euxton,
better still that I know his cousin Alice
and her increasing family.
He proudly leads me to a two-day foal,
soft, dense grey, erect ears, hay breath,
laying on dry straw.
He makes no mention of the Lostock
and how it had overflowed,
had been spreading, spreading,
spreading to the barn,
but I can see the traces of a rainbow
around the foal's face, the promise
that had held the flood at bay.
4 comments:
this is a lovely read, I liked the narrator not noticing the donkeys and then the ending, the rainblow in the foal's face is beautiful
That photograph - that poem - exquisite - I want one! Lovely Carol.
Congrats on keeping going with the poem-a-day challenge!
CGP - thanks
Weaver - He's selling the donkey - so if you really want it....!
Susan - I've not actually managed one a day (blush, blush) but at least I've managed some!
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