Friday, July 15, 2016

Caprine jam

Gaddis are on move,
for food and fodder and life.
Large flocks of sheep
and some goats,
the wherewithal of this nomadic cult,
block the highway oftentimes,
that treacherous mountain road
with its serpentine circuits,
steep falloffs and dizzying heights.
The slow but sure-footed bleating caprines
making their way through hairpin turns and narrow hilly lanes.
A sight to behold in itself.
There is a beautiful melancholy in their move,
a harmony, a congruence of elements,
a comfort in this roadblock.
A couple of blind lefts and rights,
and I will be home.
Home, that I carry in my heart.

Linking with Friday Fictioneers


  1. Lovely poem. Being stuck in slow-moving traffic, whether animal or mechanical, gives one time for reflection.

    1. It most definitely does and goats and sheep on roads get me nostalgic

  2. Somehow I feel that being stuck is part of the deal, making home so much sweeter...

  3. Dear Ruby,

    Nice atmospheric poem.




Since every thought is a seed, I am looking forward to a delicious harvest.