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Thomson / Gale

Landscape of Ordinary Things - Poem

Literary Review,  Spring, 2001  by Eileen Berry

   The view from our window is still the same, Gregsons' farm:
   the son has it now.
   Landscape littered with things discarded, wooden ladder up
   to an empty hayloft, eyes ascend to seagulls
   perched, pigeons squatting on a blue slate roof, gable end,
   and, down below, vacant pigsties, bricks fallen in
   grass, where old apple trees lean into each other, twisted
   grey branches, the colour of washing-line rope.
   Silvery-sage remnants of an orchard and apples blighted,
   small, hard, green, insect-bitten, wormed and tart,
   bunched among dry, papery leaves. An iron plough, rusting
   by the side of the shed, has a flat hollow-shaped seat.
   Gouged with holes, it felt hard, cold on our skin through
   thin summer frocks: now it lies deep in wild grass,
   ferns and stinging nettles, iron teeth of the harrow poking out.
   The scythe's curved blade has slid
   against a tipped-over bucket of chickenfeed, moldy,
   smelling of damp earth like the outhouses
   with their rotted wooden seats.

Eileen Berry's poems have appeared in several journals, and she was a Pushcart Prize nominee in 1998

COPYRIGHT 2001 Fairleigh Dickinson University
COPYRIGHT 2001 Gale Group