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I did not want to walk The day was dull But imperative or impulsion pushed me out, onto the road Whether to turn left, or to turn right, I did not know Left, to the north, had once been a favoured path, but I could hear the weather beating hard on the corner there, and turned then to the right I took the sheltered way In the cold air the shapes of the island, hillshapes, streamsshapes, rockshapes appeared bared to me, undiluted My thoughts that day were clear and hard as those shapes Marred only by a waking dream that had not left me at dawn There were but two bounds to my being One hard, sheeny, as if carved of same landscape The other, the dreamscape At the hilt of the road sheep were being moved along, a collie at their heels The owner was following On seeing him a nervy grin repeated across my face I stood away to the side until the sheep passed and then stepped into the road to join him The boy stopped   Hello How a things? How a things? These your sheep? Half of them They’re some good-looking sheep Ah, they’re alright, surviving, like And you? How are you?   Alright Surviving, like   The conversation rhythmed unperturbed as if written already We had only to mime the words This was the way of provincial greeting, I remembered I bent to the dog, reached close and saw then its manky eye Wary, I jumped back He mumbled to it, a tongue not mine, snapped his fingers and the dog came to him It stretched its neck up close along the length of the boy’s outside leg meeting his index finger there, finger that fell meeting and stroking the short fur on the upperjaw, the muzzle   You’ll be down t’ pub after?     ***     We were sat on low stools at a low table   What’ll you have?    To invite an outsider to drink with him meant only one thing   To then invite another to join in, meant something quite else The latter, blue eyes, sallow skin, (a trait