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.

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