near Todleth : Jean Atkin

in a field of docks rain falls on us

   here are white hanks of sheepswool
      pegged like washing
         between drying posts

we breathe in lanolin and damp

   by clouded reeds a tatty ewe
      lurches away with her twins
         her off-fore lame

her bag all lumpy with mastitis

   you said it wouldn’t last
      we follow  
         an orange tip butterfly over the stile

Gratefully received from Jean for our Big Lit 2020 Window Poems