On the rolling wold

Amid kale and scots pine
Her footprint, broken
Cracked in half.
Her narrow shoe, left
By the shore of the lake
Worn, torn, holding
A puddle of regretWold1_from-death-comes-life-low-res

The fires come down through the foothills
from the mountain snow, looking to consume
eradicated trees, blasted heath. The clouds
won’t help, nor stop them, just yetWold2_3-trees-at-coniston

that old lane leads down
between the sheepfolds
out of town. I am but one drop, and
the sea seems deeper than the skyWold3_eroded-coast-iso400

spraypainted graffiti grass blades
slice open eggs and bloody feathers
the smug lawn decries the falcon’s horror show
of a meal, yet is nurtured by the falcon’s
manure, and decomposing remainsWold-4a-matter-of-life-and-death

the falcon’s eye muddles the grasses
into a distant smudge, wispy smoke
over the foothills and
the mirror of the lakeWold5_one-midsummer-morning-at-rydal-web

rocky shore, intense blue
she for the distance yearns.
fish come, to the shallows
to learnWold6_floating-seaweed

cattail fronds and tufts of grass
the falcon trades feathers for scales
the water reminds of the woods behind
out of sight up on the hillWold7_grasses-at-ennerdale-water-1-5mb

Finally the clouds come
and with their rain
douse the burning coals
above that lake, on the rolling woldWold8_coniston-water-from-disused-quarry


ekphrastic poem based on the works of Fay Collins, as prompted by SarahSouthWest at d’Verse Poets Pub

11 thoughts on “On the rolling wold

  1. Wow.

    I love this. Each piece stands alone, but as a series, they work so well together. I like the movement from big to small, closeness to distance, the falcon’s eye view of the landscape, the passing of time. I know I should pick out a favourite bit, but I can’t.

    Liked by 1 person

  2. I admire this series you wrote to lead us through the art gallery. The one about the old lane is my personal favorite and this line: “I am but one drop, and
    the sea seems deeper than the sky”


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