 |
| Adriaen van Ostade |
Taxman
Seven scythes leaned at the wall.
Beard upon golden beard
The last barley load
Swayed through the yard.
The girls uncorked the ale.
Fiddle and feet moved together.
Then between stubble and heather
A horseman rode.
George Mackay Brown
I love the image this poem paints - after all the the hard work, the sweat of the season, the worry over the weather, finally, the harvest is in!
It's done!
Everyone breathes a sigh of relief, and the sweet moment of completion inspires
dancing, drinking, feasting ----
until a familiar figure rises in the distance...
Funny/not funny, right?
No comments:
Post a Comment