Iron Harvest

Crops sown so many years ago:
Across miles,
One way,
Then returned,

Echo for echo:
Stony ground,
Killing fields,
Soft impact
Confusing
Simple fuses.
Mental blocks, reparations,
Seeds wait, forgotten:
Messages gone astray,
History not getting through.
Quietly, she leaves the shop
Walks numbly past lists of names.
The bell on the spring
Rings for a long, long time.
Iron harvest still being gathered.

But Not.

Hanging in the mob-rule,

No-pause-for-breath, air

The ancient magic,

Mixed with the new,

Is still clearly there.

Continue reading