Refuge

Refuge Whither the river flows and finds its way Life surges and ebbs by hunter and prey, There, beside wooded paths alert anglers fish By slow waters where cool willows sway. Painted boats glide on the bright wavelet’s crest, Below shaded bridges, fish feed or rest And gather in close clumps of reed or sedge, A Grey Heron sits upon its open nest. Passing tall grassed meadows where cattle graze, Under oaks, horses retreat from heat filled haze Nervous rabbits run to bank side burrows And field mice escape the lone raptor’s gaze, The silent hunter waits and finds his mark. Inside a moored boat’s cabin, a dog’s bark As fox and cubs sleep in their hidden lair, While others find refuge in the watchful dark. Barry Stebbings July 2023