“A Summer’s Field in Winter”
(c) 2022 by Michael L. Utley

let us sift through summer’s solemn ashes
let us scavenge rusted hopes from twisted
hulks of yesterdays amid the swelter
and the din of frigid silence
as crows circle

this broad swath the acreage of sorrow
garden of the gods whose feckless mewling
echoes ‘cross the eons and the seasons
crumble into dust as autumn
gives up her ghost

we were never long for this cold world, this
dispensation of abominations
sunset fell before the flax had faded
bleeding out beneath indiff’rent
constellations

paradise, oh paradise eternal
dashed upon the stones of human hubris
we the stewards dined on milk and honey
as our world descended into
oblivion

thus the world was burned and we burned with it
rendered lurking shadows in the gloaming
flesh and bone have failed us as the season
of regrets approaches; we have
earned winter’s wrath

in our dreams we’ll gather wild flowers
fetch the wicker basket for the poppies
crowns of woven larkspur shall adorn us
we will rest among oak shadows
in the clearing

and when we awaken from our slumber
and when we espy the desolation
let us sift through summer’s solemn ashes
in the winter’s frigid silence
as crows circle

(Author’s Note: This poem was originally published in Chewers & Masticadores in January 2023.)