Feb 2016
The wind across a skin
The drum under the hills , on the road
The tribe
Five thousand years, the gypsies
Flare a wild curse
Clan chief twists a winter horn
As kids, skewbald urchins
Question us once
Then follow
The line of beggars and kings
Down into the sodden
Fold between nations
The drum under the hills , on the road
The tribe
Five thousand years, the gypsies
Flare a wild curse
Clan chief twists a winter horn
As kids, skewbald urchins
Question us once
Then follow
The line of beggars and kings
Down into the sodden
Fold between nations
Another poem from my favourite region. Inspired by some amazing footage on internet. The Keilder wild goats are very rarely seen. Yet they survive.
