napowrimo_05
The Soothmoother borrows a scythe
Let the blade’s weight
do the work. If the edge is keen
the cut slices the sward,
folds it over into a flat parcel
of meadowgrass and herbs.
Keep whetstone and water
tied to your belt.
Grip the handles on the snath,
swipe low, twist from the waist,
keep arms locked and knees loose.
Skim, step forward, skim,
step forward, the rhythm
drives a flat swath
across the field. How you do it,
create a frame of forces, a focus
on the cut line moving on,
and the sweet smell
of mown hay.
Colin Will
05/04/2013
my favourite so far, looks like a finished poem to me!
ReplyDeletePretty nearly there Marion.
ReplyDelete