Pescadero
The little goats like my mouth and fingers,
and one stands up against the wire fence, and taps of the fence board
a hoof made blacker by the dirt of the field,
pushes her mouth forward to my mouth,
so that I can see the smallish squared seeds of her teeth,
and the bristle-whiskers,
and then she kisses me, though I know it doesn't mean "kiss."
then leans her head way back, arcing her spine, goat yoga,
all pleasure and greeting and then good-natured indifference: she loves me,
she likes me a lot, she takes an interest in me, she doesn't know me at all
or need to, having thus acknowledged me. Though I am all happiness,
since I have been welcomed by the field's small envoy, and the splayed hoof,
fragrant with soil, has rested on the fence board behind my hand.
-Mark Doty
Today's front yard critter count:
Raccoons:: 6 (Old Tailless Guy's Little Woman, Crabby Mama and her 4 teenagers)
Deer: 3
Reminds me of that field of goats that we visited with on our way back from Joseph, Oregon. I didn't know that goats belched that much. Fun!!!
ReplyDeleteOh, I had to stop and comment on this. Reminds ME of the goats that greeted us at the county fair a couple of years ago. They were the first thing you saw when you entered, brilliant placement. They are so friendly, natural greeters and hosts!
ReplyDeleteSo true! And didn't you take the wonderful "blogger profile" picture then too?
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