Rape fields so yellow they hurt my eyes
plough share and blossom spring grows
day by day in the warm air. Last year’s dreams
have disappeared churned in the raw moist earth
buried in the winter sleep and now they’re forgotten:
echoes of memory, down a lane I didn’t chose.
I wonder do you think of us? All the golden dust
of Autumn in our eyes as we watched you crumble
metamorphose into someone new leaving me behind
I sometimes hear your voice calling through sleep filled dawn
arms around my body then I wake and you are gone.
Life is better from this high, the back of a breathing
horse we move in unison same pattern same stride
glide across the landscape a visionary bird’s eye
while the world dries beneath us, crumbles into
last year’s dreams while this year stretches its delicate hands.
Morning mist sea squall brown foam on the beach line
sand crumbles between cold toes and the dog
makes her way to the brink of each wave, waiting:
waiting to be asked to dive in swim, strong stroke against
the tide, bringing it all back to me; without asking.