Haloes hover,
Bands about a sun
Excreting amber.
Rays drop talons
Burning brand new acre
Of field, full ashen
With bleached cedar.
A cider lingers on the cellar table,
Conspicuously rural.
Oxen
Pull ploughs that alter
Tendons that ripple the umber.
Chalk grumbles under
Grind of ground cumin.
Dry spices curtain
The ceding summer.
The drought-dry dust caulkers.
Night spills setting a soft spoken sable.
A road allows farmers firm amble
To tavern
Still paler
Lit low by lantern.
Fallow fields fall vaguer
In distant nocturn.
Thick fur
Fuels warmer
To hinder windburn
Of waxing winter.
Song fires the flintroofed church's choral
Volleys of rain render the speckled sky umbral.
Cedar ashes acrid.
Amber talons hover
Searching for the sun.
FIRE 21, p 162; Lisa Mansell