Back from the old shoulder of a road

        Back from the old shoulder of a road

        and the ephemeral silence of the grass

        huge barrelled rolls of hay

        have sparked

        an angry crimson scar around the valley

        and held it still in the smoky pall of night.*

        From ice-tipped knives of dawn

        orange rags of flame that wink from yard

        to yard around the fire lighter’s lonely vigil.

        Outside of that the village sleeps in straw

        burnt guttered air,

        where one who wanders out

        from fitful dreams of fear and flames

        to the flint dark highway

        now a long-lit fuse connecting the ignition

        of the past

that burns along the blood

        to a conflagration of the heart.

*Smoking the Vines - an ancient farming practice still conducted in late spring to protect the soft new growth from frost.

These poems are from my new collection IN THE APRICOT DARKNESS (view the cover and contents below in my recent posts). They are now being published individually, daily under 'recent posts' on my blog and will be available shortly as an eBook that can be read online or downloaded for free.