deepundergroundpoetry.com

Maize harvest

Now we know winter's on the way  
tractors blocking roads and lanes  
impatient cars queue and grumble,  
as trailers stacked to over-load  
drawl slow, one wheel in the verge  
the other 'cross the road  
flashing red, defying all to overtake.  
One last crop, save for potatoes  
coming home before the winter's rain.  
Fields once six feet high levelled  
to the ground exotic jungles raised  
gobbled up and chopped to pulp  
to feed and fatten meat and milk.  
stumps  the only witnesses to  summer.  
Soon the  plough and harrow as
crows take up their winter vigil
and the guy burns on the green.  
Winter soon and Christmas.
Written by Kexby (john rickell)
Published
All writing remains the property of the author. Don't use it for any purpose without their permission.
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