Sisters of the Riverbank

 

I see them in winter
Now the light is lowering the sky
To a glow of late days

Their fingertips: bony, leaves lost
Entwined in solidarity
Holding hands at the river’s edge
Waiting out the rising winter floods

 

I see them in spring
Now the light is lifting the sky
Above the silver frosts

Singing a green song; dancing
Along the racing riverbank
Filling the air with pollen and bees
Waltzing with the breeze

 

I see them in the summer
Now the light is a vast blue echo
Of blazing sunshine

Their limbs laden: green shawls
Draped over slow summer waters
A picnic of sheep and swallows
And soft summer talk

 

I see them in autumn
Now the light is burnishing
Fruit and grain to gold

Sisters of the riverbank
Counting their leaves as they fall
These memories they’ve grown
They share a rich harvest now

 

 

 

Apples for Tythes

 Step by step

The early light

Full of winter dreams

Is tangible in the air

Like swimming

Through those

Bare branches of

Lone coral trees

Where morning crows

Cough and call

The tides

 

These favourite lanes

Winding through winter

Paths steeped in water light

With apple trees for tythes

 

Paradise

Wellhouse

Pockets full of old rhynes

Views of the hill

Windmill

Wick

And above town

Where pavement heights

Change with

A will

 

Step by step in the early light

Walking the miles

Pockets full of old rhynes

And apples for tythes