Monday, January 1, 2024

Colin Cloute on the First of January - poem

 

Lawrence Hall, HSG

Mhall46184@aol.com

 

 

Colin Cloute on the First of January

 

And now is come thy wynters stormy state,

Thy mantle mard, wherein thou maskedst late

 

-Spenser, The Shepheardes Calender, “Januarye,” 23-25

 

The calendar year is advertised as new

But the slanting, yellowing sun is old

Almost weepy-eyed, exhausted, and weak

Beyond the icy cirrhus clouds of dusk

 

In a few weeks I will turn over the garden soil

A mediaeval ploughman with his electric tiller

Following the ancient seasons of the English year

Anticipating Lent and Eastertide

 

For now, the fireside and a comforting page

And a cuppa for warming the bones of age

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