What heavy breath escapes you;

matted creature, snorting monster–

four legged man without woman

as master;

your beard twists of licked

charcoal curls; dark- rubbed

with the rolling clouds behind.

I hear the sounds of a wet chest

strained upon the muscle

of your front legs;

an intelligent mind, outside the materials

of a humankind;

free running thistle thick through,

calves are strong as steel ship sterns,

you - the colour of rain,

struck fast with blades of light.

If I could pierce that needle point

of the moon fixed in your eye,

or chocolate fold my hair

through your mane, moor wild,

could I come with you into the night?

Embed the turf ink bleeds of grass

underneath my fingernails

and at last, at last

know the speed with which the wind

moves, the trees grow; canticle

orbs where the earth is shaded?

I have your tawny heart,

your running thought, your secret

smile kiss of amber bark;

my eyes through the falling snow,

the dying clods of clay

you escape.