fresh-made country road

a layer of limestone blinding at the noon
no shimmer though from distant sight of sea
yet envy of the vultures flying free

asking of life no complicated boon
but water ready hot for making tea
a layer of limestone blinding at the noon

i listen now to hear the wild birds croon
no sounds but nature's underneath this tree
no one would bow their head or bend the knee
a layer of limestone blinding at the noon