Walking at the edge

In this summer of long walks and silences,
closeness and distancing,
small explorations – we pick our way along
the very edges of the field, through thistles,
and green grass, where the wheat
peters out, and small flowers,
bright in the sunlight.
We’re good visitors. We walk the margins,
respect John Barleycorn.

I like the smell,
the raw green smell of wheat,
and the colour, green edging
into gold – sun-warmed, sun-bleached,
sun-fed, sun-ripened, taking us
joyfully and inevitably into autumn;
and I like the sound, small waves
rolling rolling, and I like the movement
of the wind sweeping the heavy-headed wheat,
the ripple of it – water, silk, fur.

I like the life in it.

Rosemarie Gonzales is hosting at dVerse tonight, and we are exploring wheat.

20 thoughts on “Walking at the edge

  1. Your words streamed like a beautiful silk woven dream. Thank you for sharing such a beautiful post! ❤️ According to your convenience please do read some of my writings would love to know what you think about them. 👏

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  2. I like this, it’s topical and rocks the prompt. You’ve convinced me that you really were there, noting the sights, sounds, and smells.

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  3. This is so elegantly woven! I especially love; “the raw green smell of wheat, and the colour, green edging into gold – sun-warmed, sun-bleached, sun-fed, sun-ripened, taking us joyfully and inevitably into autumn.” Yes! 💝💝

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  4. An intensely sensual poem, Sarah, that I will bring to life on my walk on the edge this afternoon, mad wind permitting. You have described this summer perfectly with ‘long walks and silences, closeness and distancing’, and the rediscovery of nature. I wonder how many other people have fallen in love with thistles and other wildflowers all over again. I love the reference to John Barleycorn, an old favourite poem that I learned at school, and the album by Traffic, which |played to death all those years ago.

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  5. Pingback: Ferocious Optimism | revivedwriter

  6. Ah Sarah: love your description of coming autumn through the changing colors of the wheat field. These words “and the colour, green edging
    into gold – sun-warmed, sun-bleached,
    sun-fed, sun-ripened, taking us
    joyfully and inevitably into autumn;” so descriptive.
    And the description of the head heavy wheat in the wind is absolutely perfect in detail!

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