Hockney

 HOCKNEY

How far did they walk your heart?
I wander in those same vales,
Walk down those same paths and trails,
Treading in the wake of your beat

On bosky lanes I see gnawers,
Scurrying up trunks in bright sun,
I follow your trail up Woldgate,
To beet fields where rabbits jump 

Clambering up a karstic hill,
Skating black ice through cold sky tears,
Large squirrelled trunks motor past me,
Then I look back to rolls of quilt 

Knowing you were there to see,
Each little wild sunflower,
Set on fresh, chalked grasses,
In vales of wolded ranges 

Near where I stand you painted,
In dim wood light, I whisper,   
 If I could fill this moment,
In motets of sweet birdsong 

Even now I dare only creep,
Afraid to shake apart frescoes,
Nodes in my eyes grow to stems,
I step in your tracks and trails

You made those trails, I follow,
Running along the ridges,
My eyes and ears sharp as boughs,
Jumping across your canvas