Poem of the Month: February 2012
This poem is set in East Yorkshire, written during a train ride last December to Scarborough where I saw the ruins of Kirkham Abbey just outside Malton.
The sun hangs low over the ruined church
Glazing the river with the gleam of ice,
While in the trees three ravens perch,
Hunched in their wings, guardians of this place.
Trains used to stop here, but now no more,
We just slow at curve and climb of line,
And I add these images to my store,
Of happiness, against some future time.
Let us rejoice in the sacrificial sky
As distant clouds and hills go up in flame,
The last days of the year shiver and die,
Sentries for whom we have no rank or name.
From the ashes of their funeral pyre,
Is born the clamour of another year.
© James Nash 2012