Goat Song for Spring

Here’s a new poem for Spring, for the Year of the Wood Goat (MY sign!) and for all of us who have “come back to laughter.”

Goat Song
Goat-skipping down I come
ringing my chime of bells –

gold-eyed goat-fool, ancient
madwoman, blind eyes blue with sky.

Bell-spilled from snowtop
through lupine and buttercup and gold-throat lilies
whuffling snow-smell noisy as a horse.

Narrow hooves clatter me straight up-boulder
and I kick heels for nothing but fun, buck bell-spangles

into icy mineral-scented air.

When I was a child I lived in trees
swam across mudpuddles, careened
down hills, dizzy as a roundhouse.

I rolled in the backyard tickling
my cousins – giggling, squint-eyed,
rosy with pleasure.

Now I’ve come back to laughter –
late in the day and maybe sun-blinded –
to drown in dirt, galaxies whirling

headlong rolling down
the mountain of my life,

bells clanging, goat-mad.

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  1. Oh! I remember living in trees! Thank you for this! Brought up all those memories of frog-pond wading and hill climbing and never coming inside. Had to take a bath on Saturday night so we’d be clean for church on Sundays, but other than that, I wore the earth all summer long. Beautiful, Ruth. Just made me laugh. And remember…

    1. I think being goat-mad blind with sky and wearing the earth again when you’re old is the purpose of life. And laughing!

    1. Thank you! I’ve always loved them, especially the kids – so cheerful and amused and leaping on and off of everyone.

  2. Ruth! 😀 You posted this on my birthday and I just read it and I LOVE it. I am going to go and visit the Anglo Nubians at the nearby farm soon to celebrate. Your words are beautiful! _Lara

    1. Lara, how cool that you are actually going to visit some goats! I hope they have some babies – nothing is happier!

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