At last,

after the winter’s stone,

I gather mugwort from the village roads.

Feathered purple sage,

fresh mint,

lemon balm,

thyme’s purple flowers

and parsley’s drooping stars,

hang in my kitchen,

drying,

to save the scents of summer,

against the winter chills.

I gather the pearl-grey down

of cygnets

preening

on the dappled morning… Read more