Rabbit Like Melancholy
By Saskia L
Surely Mother Nature will gift us?
For all this we’ve offered and done,
For the harvest,
Of sweet fruit,
For the king cups & the greenfinch’s mottle & song,
& the giant fig tree that grows through the Earth, Rain, the Sky & Sun,
With its roaming branches,
& scent of blossoms,
Our little beech forests,
Which surely contents you?
Full of swell & motion,
But in its own way,
Hushed,
& the Sun which, for us, holds such divine health.