The Cattle

Are coming down the track
across the field to the canal

slow and sure-footed
swaying bony backs
the hoof's hollow thump
on the hard ground

huge-flanked
heavy-uddered

and the sky above
with its thin drift of cloud
its curve of blue heat
where a swallow's wing
cleaves a heron in two

they are here to drink
where the brick-work is broken
and the water pools
across the low bank

bending their huge heads
with a soft wet snorting
dipping their mouths
to suck and to slosh

lifting their muzzles
dripping strings of light

as their eyes take us in
brought here to their moment

so slenderly attached
to their earthy world
so lightly borne
on its rooty surface

as human eyes may once have glimpsed angels

but these are the angels of this world
and their gentle breath blown
is their praisesong to its maker.

Written by 

David Calcutt