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--chosen-work--
Mungy Lane
She reaches out
She takes the offered hand
And scrambles up the bank to where
The others stand in quiet
Contemplation in the stubble corn
No traffic din
We only hear the roar
Where distantly the Don drops
Foaming down a weir while still the sun
Glares thin above the stubble corn
Time standing still
A lark sings over us
Rising into blue sky fading
Into crescent moon as autumn
Comes apace to Mungy Lane
No-one speaks
Nothing need be said
Eloquent enough the river
Crashes down to Kilnhurst
Way behind the willow trees
At Kilnhurst there is
Nothing much two railway lines
Errant river wide canal
Mine and glassworks once
And now pink balsam at the water's edge
Distantly a skylark