On fields of decapitated barley, the hollow stubble full with last night’s rain, huge straw reels stand askew; great golden wheels left out to dry in the Sun, emitting a musty warmth, while fungi forms in dewy soil on which the geese reconvene to recommence their wintery discourse.
These large birds’ clacking beaks break into the day with husky talk in croaked, dawn-crack voices; the gabbling gaggle precedes the early calls of crows, blackbird and songs of rising larks, to signal our brief summer’s passing.
CLP 21/07/2020
