‘The Plain-lane’

Painting by © Claudia Frost, claudiafrost.co.uk

The Plain-lane 

Poetry © The Hedge by Rona Campbell 

They must have had curved feet, 
To round off these bends. 

From grass to mud, 
From mud to gravel, 
Till the rigor mortis lane, 
Wore a granite coat. 

The cattle, 
The weather and rubber wheels, 
Sounded in and out of sight, 
And in and out of light. 

The rain still sieves through twigs, 
And blade runs the grass 
Into the sandstone earth, 

And when the surface is sealed, 
Spare red dragon-tears 
Pour down the drain, and  
Sob on down the under-lane. 

Poem No.3 © The Hedge Rona Campbell