shep 4

Unseen,

Thick silver needled equilibrium

Of a common thornbush

In the windscape,

Is a kind of flowering.

 

Or that slender shepherd boy

Stretching on his staff, is not nothing

More than a turban.

 

For this fine chiseled windblown face

Hunts some softnesses here,

Scars and breaks adversary

And can take affront.

 

Be not deceived,

Here too

Proud seed has singular purpose,

That foot can kick, that hip

Thrust, that spine

Pin down the interloper;

It is a factor on the landscape.

 

Slender being,

Inconsequential thorn bush,

Confront millennia

With timeless seed and thorn;

And they will be born again,

again

And again.

White Thorn bush on a blurred background

White Thorn bush on a blurred background