Harvest
Posted: Sun Aug 21, 2011 1:41 am
Saturday evening
After 15 th August
Finds me walking
To shake shadows,
My own or one met on a street.
The evening sun sinks behind clouds
Rolling off the horizon.
A purple thistle flower
Brings hope
As I walk tractored tracks
In Kayes field
To investigate the clearing.
Another half acre
Will yield more crops.
Three arms gone from my Ash tree
By the stream
That held my many moods
Searching
For some sign of Life
From a bygone day
With a crooked stick
I find Mick Gleeson's
Empty
Crumpled Carrolls cigarette pack.
Bluebell bulbs scattered
On fresh clay
Excited already for April.
A harvest I dare not gather.
Awaiting my own.
After 15 th August
Finds me walking
To shake shadows,
My own or one met on a street.
The evening sun sinks behind clouds
Rolling off the horizon.
A purple thistle flower
Brings hope
As I walk tractored tracks
In Kayes field
To investigate the clearing.
Another half acre
Will yield more crops.
Three arms gone from my Ash tree
By the stream
That held my many moods
Searching
For some sign of Life
From a bygone day
With a crooked stick
I find Mick Gleeson's
Empty
Crumpled Carrolls cigarette pack.
Bluebell bulbs scattered
On fresh clay
Excited already for April.
A harvest I dare not gather.
Awaiting my own.