Daily poem: Terza Rima stanza 12


This season, gold as butter, ripened brings

the harvester to reap and raze the stalks

where furred things burrow deep and skylark sings.

Published by

Jane Dougherty

I used to do lots of things I didn't much enjoy. Now I am officially a writer. It's what I always wanted to be.

28 thoughts on “Daily poem: Terza Rima stanza 12”

      1. The only place I see swallows around here are in baseball stadiums. I wonder what makes them so appealing. Perhaps we should try to find out!

    1. Thank you ๐Ÿ™‚ I’ve just watched the most distressing thing ever. Trixie caught a vole while we were eating this evening and dumped it by the table. It was dead so I put it up by the road for the fox. About five minutes later she caught another one and plonked it in the same place. This one wasn’t dead. She’d broken its back and all the poor little thing could do was try and crawl away. I shouted at her to kill it. She smashed it in the back with her paw and started to eat it! I was almost in tears. She couldn’t even be arsed to kill it first.

      1. Omg, cats can be so cruel. I am so sorry you had to witness this . Things she is not killing to survive, she is killing for sport and thinks you will be delighted by her gift! I hope you are feeling better now. ๐Ÿ’œ๐Ÿ’œ๐Ÿ’œ

      2. She didn’t leave a drop. It was gone in a few minutes. They have no notion of cruelty. She probably thought, she’d brought us one that we didn’t appreciate so she kept the next one for herself.

      3. No, she was sharing. Sometimes she hasn’t hurt it and I can distract her (Trixie is easily distracted, just talk to her and she stops for a chat) so it can run away. If it’s dead at least one of the foxes will eat it. t was eating the vole alive that upset me so much.

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