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 to stand upright,
sniff
and taste
whatever, known or unknown,
in
their queer
square pupils they show the light
of
no fear;
though
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:
for
the id
or the devil to be shown
by
billy,
bipedal on split hoof-tips,
seems
silly.
Bill
and nan,
led by impulse placidly,
nest
no plan
between their horns, nor postpone
their
design:
shaggy caryatides
of
love’s shrine.
John Gibbens, from The Promise
Go
to the Trading Post to buy The Promise
