Poem: The Listening Walk
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.
You need to login to read subscriber-only content and/or comment on articles.