Vasco walks the bounds
inclines his huge old head
extending invitations to patrol.
Vasco is tallest
black as new tarmac
sunblasted like old stones.
What stories he could tell,
what bonds of brotherhood he could recount:
oldest, strongest, wisest.
Soon he will sleep by moist pebbles,
in dappled shade,
in sight of the old bridge.
Midi-Pyrénées, August 2010
Oliver Arditi 