Sausages for the Foxes

Seven chimes from the liberty bell
Shed the shackles from labor, work and chores,
Sending us all indoors.
Henrietta and Josephine cluck their way back to the coop,
The younger boys race inside for fresh bread, salted butter
And Mum’s cream of tomato soup.
Jubilant moths begin their tango with hanging lightbulbs
As the last of the day has rolled out and the night has signed in.

It’s those men and women who breathe life to the poppy fields
When they stand on the shamrock hills, flapping bed cloths,
Curtains and blankets,
I used to think.
It made every branch dance, spun every weathervane,
Swayed every sunflower
Before they tucked themselves in.

People could do that, their actions wave and ripple to others,
Bringing the milk to our doorsteps and the post to our mailboxes.
Cheese for the dormice,
Sausages for the foxes.

It’s nice, to think it once existed
In mind or memory.
Clear skies and warm air,
I’ll meet you there.

 

Advertisements

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out / Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out / Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out / Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out / Change )

Connecting to %s