Some Goats by Nicholas Bradley

The barrelling fog clears.
On the attenuated ledge
above the hanging valley,
five sudden goats. Air settles
lightly on crumbling stone.
They pick their way
across the crag without
stumbling or slipping,
taking no notice of heights
as they search for the least
sterile of rocks and transmute
nothing into lunch. At three thousand
metres, hobnailed conundrums
munch. Some goats are puzzles.
Some goats are postcards
mailed by mountains to say
Wish you were here.


Copyright © Nicholas Bradley. Originally published in Rain Shadow (University of Alberta Press, 2018).


Nicholas Bradley is a poet, literary critic, and scholarly editor. He lives in Victoria, British Columbia.

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