Poetry by Clare Best

Here are two poems I've been working on about the dear Lincoln Reds. I find the animals the most challenging of all to write about as I feel they deserve so much and I never want to appear to condescend or patronise them with our human language. So I've looked at presenting them here from two perspectives, I hope retaining some of their mystery, but also looking at the relationships we humans have with them, and the privilege of that. I want to communicate their dignity, beauty, nobility.

(i) Reading Lincoln Red
for Andrew

Lean on the gate, pay attention
with your eyes, as time goes on
you'll know what you're looking for;

a good animal is more or less
rectangular - see how the head sits
on the shoulders, the line

straight and clean along the back,
brisket not too deep.
They need copper from the soil,

silenium, cobalt, zinc
for the richest colour - rusty, warm -
magnesium for strong hoof and horn.

Look for patience around the lips,
a polished silver tongue,
liquid eyes, black as marsh night,

and trust in the gaze - a good animal
will look right into the core of you,
know what you think.