Poem: The Listening Walk

by Linda Saunders 22nd January 2016

Brag, sweet tenor bull,
descant on Rawthey’s madrigal.
Basil Bunting, Briggflatts

We straggle across a stubble field,
tuned in to the rasp of straws, squeak-clunk
of a kissing-gate, our own breath as we climb
to a solitary oak, its bell of shade.