Heartfires

Poems with River Jones, 2000 - 2002.

Walk to Chanctonbury Under a Stormy Sky   - jh

An old white track,

a slender ridge,

a curve of swollen corn;

fat as fingers,

golden threads

are pulling.

The saturated, seaming sky,

the man I pass

who mops his eyes;

another clump of hedge grubbed up,

one less hunched bonnet scrathcher

straggling down the bostal road.

The bolting deer,

the tumbling hare, the hawk

five hands above my head.

The bone white chalk,

the shadow light,

the eddying rush of corn.

The tearing for the thicket

and the lap of hazel tongues.

I wonder, briar circled,

if you'll ever see this spot.

I wonder if you'll ever know

this green eyed hollow

of it's song. This shower

has not turned the clouds,

this outburst has not made

the air less precious

or the sky less full.

The track again,

the rush of corn,

the spaces in between;

opening like voids,

glimmering close.

Available Autumn 2008

Copyright all Text and Images J.A. Hindle 2008