Count the Wild things.

Count all the Wild things then,

the Wild things of the Earth that remain.

Storm Clouds perhaps.

Sudden Thunder that wakes up all the Dogs.

A flurry of Snow in May.

The Night Tide rushing at the Sand

and gone again, too fast to catch.

The Clam in the Seagull's beak.

Stray Feather, crushed Shell, Sea Fog, and the cries of the last Geese home.

Count all the Wild things

while you can.

And as long as you're counting, and making your long List long,

Remember to count Yourself, or whatever Wild parts of You you still can feel and touch and name.

Count all the Wild things.

While you can.

J van de Geest Van Gruisen 2019