There are gravelled paths,
a snail parade across the way,
blue slate walls
and ferns looping over the path.
We walk up and up
and turn to see the
blue arm of the river,
freckled with white boats.
A spring flows down
next to the path.
Everything is still
in the afternoon and amber sun.
Down on the pontoon,
a couple lower raw bacon on strings and pull it up again exclaiming
‘I’ve got six! More than you!’
to their wriggling clusters of crabs.
We cannot imagine living in a place
so beautiful.
#21
elisabeth pike 