Silt

Over the fence he leans, speaks of
his time working
the huge hedgeless farms, decades

spent stretched on brown landscapes,
scenes etched into his eyes, where
I see him smoking

in deafening tractor cabs, minding
ploughs behind him
while trawling the rich draining silts,

for all our sakes – the interminable
trails of gulls in his tow

© copyright David Barker 2014

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