Field Musings

heavy sky lightens to ochre
a wizened orchid quivers
and I discover the earthy bark
so rare in these hills

rain blasts me as I ruminate

deliciously still;
soon morning will awake slumbering bees
and I will scamper to the crest
scattering homeless sheep

hazed horizon shimmers

I keep my eyes cast down
my senses on autonomic
my hooves on the ground
except for leaps.