we crossed the mountains
with the rising of the sun
the dawn racing ahead of us
like a mad horse
on the other side
the valley
the river
the trees
a whole landscape
bathed
in early sunlight
still shivering
with the breathing of night
I wondered
why the weights
had gone from my shoulders
why the guns and knives
had rusted in my belt
our eyes were laughing
our mouths were singing
and as we descended
the withered grass
became green and full
crowning in stalks
with a multitude of flowers
©Peter Finch from ”Selected Poems” Page 13, Poetry Wales Press 1987