New Deer Concerto

August. Sun's a kettledrum on high Hitting the right notes, solo, in the sky While underground things knit and mesh and settle The summer heat keeps barley on its mettle Between the rustling fields, tall foxgloves stand Like sticks of bell-chimes. Summer rules the land Wind turbines turn like gleaming swimmer's arms Slicing through blue. The ditch yields up its charms The clouds turn purple with a great crescendo As wind and rain beat down, drum-tap staccato Both meadow-grass and birch reverberate The summer storm sweeps in with regal state Vetch. thistle, pit-a-pat with muffled beats And like the milk that spurts from a dam's teats Rain water gurgles down the furrow's throat And drenches turtle dove and sharp-fanged stoat Night, and the shadow play of darkening leaves Dances upon the wall beneath the eaves Then biting midges lose their vampire zest And butterflies snap shut their wings in rest High in the Heavens, the lunar galleon Breasting the cloud banks like a graceful swan Looks down as creatures wearied by the day Turn a blind eye to sight and drift away The farm stretches out and takes its ease The farmer, wife, the crops, the honeybees Each barley head like harp strings silent falls Breath slows, and limbs turn limp. A barn owl calls