If we wash our legs with frozen water

Watch it rill down hairy flesh – oh the power

Of the body to refresh – to lie down at night

Wake again among harebells and bees, lichen

Speckled boulders, mists of sweet white

Clover – if we cock our pollen hats

Like Leonardo da Vinci and sketch

Riffles come to nurse the thirsty

Rubble, we can lean back, sieve

Our tea among secretive

Rocks – soak away the meanness

Of a year’s duplicity – no one can reach

Us here – no human noise –

A river will gentle the cruelest voice