the tiniest feet

behind the hedge,
the slumbering sounds of cows
is rising with the half formed dawn,
just slight whispers,
as bodies brush against the grass.

the filling trough
bubbles, and coughs,
hisses,
and stops.

then, my path was crossed,
hardly saw the shape before
it was lost,
to the verge, to the field,
to beyond;
with the tiniest feet
it made not the tiniest sound.

my world is mine,
and yours is yours,
we met just once on our different course,
but i admired
how my path was crossed,
blessed to have known you,
though our time was short.

the tiniest feet

uncleblack

Joined February 2010

  • Artist
    Notes
  • Artwork Comments 12

Artist's Description

shrew on this mornings dog walk.

Artwork Comments

  • Donna19
  • uncleblack
  • jainiemac
  • uncleblack
  • Alenka Co
  • uncleblack
  • erichbiemer
  • uncleblack
  • Alenka Co
  • uncleblack
  • © Karin Taylor
  • Alenka Co
desktop tablet-landscape content-width tablet-portrait workstream-4-across phone-landscape phone-portrait
desktop tablet-landscape content-width tablet-portrait workstream-4-across phone-landscape phone-portrait

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