once a sea of green and dappled shade,

specked with flowers colours of the sky,

that waved beneath butterfly-flutter, grasses

hung with finches chirruping in falcon-shadow,

is rolled, pressed tight and still as stone.

On bristled stalk,

bales stand baking in the sun,

or bathed in moonlight,

monuments to a vanished spring.

When they roll away, sweet-smelling summer,

green will flow to wash away the scars,

life thrust again, the eternal tide,

patient as the stars.

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.

18 thoughts on “Monuments”

      1. terrifying and amazing … perhaps more or less of one or the other depending how ‘safe’ you feel… now when I think of all the asteroids zinging around that could strike the earth…

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