SALISBURY LANDSCAPES POEMS 7

The storm is coming, the wind is rattling through the branches of the trees and rain has started to fall. Look after yourselves!

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“And all the winds go sighing, For sweet things dying”. Christina Georgina Rossetti

Where do we go?

In the stillness of the middle of the day,

Before the hours chase like mice towards

Evening we stand watching that old fellow,

Pass with thought and care for we know our choice.

The shadow has all but gone as the sun is ahead,

It lightly stencils itself between the grass,

Only shading the careful insect upon its stem,

Bravely holding its place amidst its peers.

Much of the green has given way to thirst,

Rusted to a fawn preserving energy with

A hardened outer shield to us dead but

To renew its life another year from the soil.

So parched we view the scene with trepidation,

For to settle is to be as dry as the field before us,

For to maintain our ground would require this,

So to new fields we go before we rust in stagnation.

“The breath of life is in the sunlight and the hand of life is in the wind.” Kahlil Gibran, The Prophet