Hiking up White Horse Hill

I find myself

naming the stiff wind

that nearly lifted me

to the ridge of Uffington Castle

a breeze

in the understated

way of the English.

And I’ve only been here a day.

Only a bird in flight

can see – in one glance –

the long legs and pointed ears

of the white chalk horse.

What manner of man

or woman

envisioned such a thing

in 700 BC?

From the hilltop path

I chip off a piece of powdery stone

to carry this memory

across the “pond,”

as they say,

and mark my sidewalk

a wonder.

- as seen in Bridges