Summer Fields

Summer fields

Mid-June knee high yellowed grass
Screaming for a cut, I sensed its thirst,
the struggle and failure to remain upright,
on a crisp hollow shell.

Mallow stands proud pink petals
boldly streaked with magenta, waiting
for a wise woman to brew a remedy
or make a cheese-weed cheese

Dandelion aggressive interlopers,
heads bowed to the soil, already shrivelled,
the seeds dispersed in the whispered breeze.
one o’clock, two o’clock, three o’clock

I paused, listened to the chirrup
of grass hopper, cricket,
whatever’s the difference.
threatened by my stillness, they fell silent.

Dogs raced down from the top of a hill.
George jumped, leapt like a deer through the grass,
up down, up down, he dipped and dived
Revelling in the stench of bitch fox

Flora, fast as a bullet chased swallows
backwards, sideways covering three times
his distance in her futile efforts
to bring home her own lunch.

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