Another Country

I have fallen through 
the concrete carpet
to the rush and crackle
to the roar of the dying
in a bitter blue
where the edges crinkle
to the gold and green 
of the clusers lying 
in a swirl and rustle 
of dapple and curl 
to the sway and lee 
of an intricate weave 
which fronds and dips
through the spirit paddling 
and licking the stones 
with freckled lips.

I stand near the marble
assailed and outnumbered
entwined in a country
I can't comprehend 
on this coloured carpet
discarded and crumpled
I linger and listen 
to life on the wane - 
disheveled and wasted,
wrapped in its aura,
through a harshness of human 
this place keeps me sane.
Demeter's Fields
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