Where once grasses buzzedwith jazz of cricketsand loud grasshoppers,cornfields have been razedto stubble, and strawploughed in umber earth. Herons stalk soddenfields, through soggy standsof russet bracken,on towards winter,in ancient rhythm,still pulsing with life. It’s the yawn of time,when the hearth’s tonguesets culture on fire,to glow through the blackdome of night untilthe coming of spring. Winter’s […]
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