God's Little Acre

God’s Little Acre

On a land abandoned by man and behind
an ancient stonewall I saw a Frisian cow.
Not many of those around here, I walked
over to have a look, the ruminant was now
a boulder. I touched it, still warm; looked
up and around, someone was ribbing me.
Walked off looking nonchalant, but quickly
turned to have another look, the big stone
had turned into a grazing Frisian again and
drab olive trees had silver leaves.
I smiled and shook my head, this ongoing
joking between us, I’m old enough to keep
this a secret and, anyway, it is not easy to
talk about shadowboxing.

by Oskar Hansen

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