Kit Kelen #142 - let me play a harp to them

142

let me play a harp to them

these cattle have consumed the valley

they are kept sparse of sun

clock's far, you won't see

river run

they seem like statues

shift geologically

they've eaten all the trees

made milk

the hammering

pond landings

and the sudden

scurry winged

are all

their entertainment

they are monuments

of breeding

slaves of a story

older than told

each in its dung mist

rising pat

and all ears

for a tune