A long walk to get there, directions taken, warning given
The rooks not impressed by my intrusion
And the long grass stems were bent over
Hung with shivering craneflies still in shock from hatching
Standing stones, harbingers in that moment
Pointed to dark skies, the rainstorm approaching
And the countryside all around flat like a map
Patchwork of squares and hedges hung with haws
And the rooks were circling black against grey and
Breaking the pre-storm silence with caws.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem