top of page

One aspect of my rural life in west Wales

Winter Sunday afternoons


Winter Sunday afternoons

I pick up twigs and sticks

of ash and oak and also willow

from field, garden and outgrown hedgerow

that autumn gales

have torn from the trees’ tangled tresses.


I am blessed by this necessity,

this primeval labour,

this fundamental harvest,

twice warming the body,

kindling the spirit,

distant from the clutch of money,

the claptrap diatribe of politician,

the siren blether of television.


Yes, I am blessed

by this need for fire

that draws me out into haunt of heron,

the fox’s clandestine domain,

the snipe’s hunting grounds,

where frost-bitten air stings skin and mind

clean under the one embracing sky.





This poem was first published in the pamphlet, PENfro Poets 2013, Eds. Peter George & Brenda Squires, Menter Rhosygilwen, 2013.





Dave Urwin is a founder member of PENfro Poets. Some of his poetry appears on his poetry blog, jadedmountain.wordpress.com. He regularly reads his work live at local venues. He is the MC for The Cellar Bards, a monthly spoken word event in Cardigan.



14 views1 comment

1 Comment


Nigel Smith
Nigel Smith
Aug 06, 2023

Lovely pastoral, descriptive poem.

Like
bottom of page