Goats and Sheep
Two
young goats,
nipping hay from a manger,
wear
straw coats
on bodies of bulge and bone,
jut
and crook;
at the voice of a stranger
turn
to look.
Front
feet placed
on the rail, they stand upright,
sniff
and taste
what’s to hand, known or unknown.
In
their queer
square pupils they show the light
of
no fear;
while
the ewe
with the same unusual eyes
holds
a view
contrariwise. With blear groan
and
stiff ret-
rograde step she shies, denies
you
a pet.
Charming
kid,
feeling up with smiling lips:
that
the hid-
den id or devil are shown
in
billy,
bipedal on split hoof-tips,
seems
silly.
Bill
and nan
follow impulse placidly,
hatch
no plan
beneath their horns, and disown
no
design:
shaggy caryatides
of
love’s shrine.
John Gibbens, from The
Promise
Go
to the Trading Post to buy The Promise
