Along The Headlands

In some places the growth regulator has worked.

The barley perches waist height,

perfect cover for the pigeons that dive-bomb

grey feathers all a flutter,

deaf to the crow banger’s crack, crack, crack

as they land in the elsewhere places

of stems grown too tall not to loose their balance.

In the shadow of the sheds there’s warmth yet,

the sun is sunk but not quite set

and the sky has turned to rust beyond the track

where the tractors wobble outwards

for one last relay before dusk can claim day.

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I’ve mixed two prompts tonight. DVerse Poets Pub’s challenge to write a poem about landscape while using verbs in an unusual way (I’m hoping I managed that) and today’s Daily prompt: Traditional. So here you have traditional Shropshire scenery with a twist.

23 Comments

  1. I enjoyed your verbs in unusual contexts very much, Carol, especially in the lines:
    ‘The barley perches waist height’
    and
    ‘where the tractors wobble outwards’.
    You’ve painted a familiar landscape in a less familiar way and coloured it in tones of barley and rust.

  2. It is an enjoyable poem to read as well! I like this look at the Shropshire countryside. I envision one of Van Gogh’s blue and wheat colored landscapes. The dive bombing pigeons – very nice!

  3. I really love the setting sun and tractors wobbling, “and the sky has turned to rust beyond the track where the tractors wobble outwards for one last relay before dusk can claim day.”

  4. I really like this very much. You’ve captured the scene so well, and used such subtle verbs to make it work. I particularly like the “elsewhere places” and the rusting sky, especially so close to the tractor, which immediately became slightly battered in my mind’s eye.

  5. vividly picturesque without a single lurid line –
    “as they land in the elsewhere places” – very nicely put

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