Posted by: Ross Gardner | December 24, 2012

Winter Fields

Of Winter Fields

The wind scatters its crumbs of cold comfort

Between drifts of squally rain

And the tattering rags of belligerent old oaks.

The charmless slab of the sky struggles

With the weight of its vapours.

Beneath it the hedgerows shiver darkly,

Lifeless streams dance vainly through ditches

Rejuvenated by the winter’s folly,

And sodden brown fields grumble solemnly away

Towards their stark horizons.

The stubble tosses its clods into the drizzle

And transforms them into skylarks,

Uttering their fragments of spring

That drift groundwards, dissolving into earth.

The spinney disgorges its torrent of feathers,

The woodpigeons and crows that swarm in the furrows,

Finding glee among the bedraggled fields.

Through the eyes of small birds

The silvered thorn pinpoints the warmth

Concealed by the mid-winter chill.

© 2012 Ross Gardner

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