Far off into the evening
a dog is barking,
silence a flock of sheep
he keeps in a corner of a field.

A cow calls low
from a heathered hill
before milking.

Clusters of cloud
venial and white
trifle with land’s end.

Two finches picking on a battered oak
cry out repeatedly.
Their notes dimple the freckled evening.

Out in the bay, the islands
are three blue-faced giants,
up to their eyes in brine;
wavelets tickle their ears.