Literary Vegan

A break in the rain Of November A family of moorhens Patter up a bank Under the yellow leaves Ghostly green in the middle Clinging on - Or maybe  A moment of Spring  For these brown younglings, For me; A kinder cold, Visible soft - Before half a moon  Sinks us back into the season  Of wishing it still Was. C. LJ Ireton 2023

Gentle is the ghost behind the command - Marching a memory Of heartbeats Lingering where earth would meet Percussive feet In polished shoes And masked face - Sharp instruction fills  The space Where pacing  Won't outpace the past - Gentle is the ghost behind the command  When the Last Post shouts into another realm Of night, quiet, silent thoughts Louder is the order, then Yet soft as the soil, Tapped in tandem When there was another, And control felt closer. Gentle is the ghost behind the command - The old clock chimes See-through secrets  Under the Sound.  C. LJ Ireton 2023

Out of the mud marshes of Middle England,  Rainbows rise wide and down. At their source, molten silver has pooled Around mounds of stubborn grass, Making the brown sludge beautiful  And white birds, not minding the shallow, Sit on the sheen,  Dotting the water under the distanced trees And tantrum-tired sky. The spectrum draws eyes over the sodden Landscape, the leaden background - But the gulls only look forward  Resting on the reflected light, Making fields the sea.  C. LJ Ireton 2023