Who Else Lives Here?
WHO ELSE LIVES HERE? by Richard Longstaff
I see you, sheep and crow, about your lives;
I hear you, lark and windchat;
I smell you, fox and scent your stink;
My feel sink deep in bright green moss
And splash in flush and hidden rill.
My studded boots both crush and tear
And pumping legs beat down the bryophyte.
White winter grass and new sprung stems
Unbreaking bend, rebound, with little trace
To tell the monster passed this way.
But who lives here beyond this scale?
What vast mass of other worlds are here as well?
Through all interstices of root and soil
There creeps and writhes and flutters
A mass of life concealed from me.
What weight, what size, what energy
There bursts beneath my clumsy feet?
This was written by a friend of mine. I asked him if I could post it here. He said I could. Thanks, Richard.