Fans the sweat heat coming through the  ripped door
Cracked feet dusty soled upon the beaten clay
The wheat all bent in rows and swaying  as if reapers
Worked in time together strung in lines, but only breeze
Tickles all the feather ends of  rye and oat
Tools once moiled and troubled dissolve in rust
Poppy coloured-   reddle once used for marking
Stirred of whey, ochre and bullock blood.

She does not scythe or  bind the stooks
Nor bites the wheat to test its starch
Rats cough and grunt along their paths
The timbers lean heavily, yawn and list
As ergot spores explode on summer nights
Whilst a low huge moon explores with fine hard fingers
The cracks in slats, what’s left  behind…

Is softly winnowed  dancing motes and lumpen sacks
The husks and heaps upon a rotting rooted miller’s  floor.


Veronica Aldous 2016 All Rights Reserved.



About Veronica Aldous

Writer and artist, Veronica is a lecturer is Fine Art and Creative Writing. Her first book of poems, 'Moon Cinema' is now available on Lulu.com. Now there is also 'Mortal' her second book.
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