<\/p>\n
<\/p>\n
Death-Winter<\/strong> It is the year the poet died We soon to move to another life Coal and great-tits zip in At dusk, preparing to roost Later, late evening, <\/p>\n <\/p>\n <\/p>\n <\/p>\n Julie Sampson<\/strong>‘s poetry is widely published. She edited Mary Lady Chudleigh; Selected Poems<\/i> (Shearsman, 2009). Her collection, Tessitura <\/i>was published by Shearsman<\/i> (2014) and a pamphlet, It Was When It Was When It Was<\/i> (Dempsey and Windle, 2018). www.juliesampson.com<\/a> Twitter @julieEsampson<\/p>\n","protected":false},"excerpt":{"rendered":" Death-Winter February 1963 It is the year the poet died and we are soon to leave the town. Against the stage-set of raucous rooks whose interminable chatter gives them information before the rest of us, heart-to-hearts, cacophonous, the gossips are out. We soon to move to another life prepare to let go, days […]<\/p>\n","protected":false},"author":4,"featured_media":0,"comment_status":"closed","ping_status":"closed","sticky":false,"template":"","format":"standard","meta":{"_et_pb_use_builder":"","_et_pb_old_content":"","_et_gb_content_width":"","footnotes":""},"categories":[7],"tags":[],"class_list":["post-18582","post","type-post","status-publish","format-standard","hentry","category-prose-poetry"],"_links":{"self":[{"href":"https:\/\/inksweatandtears.co.uk\/archive\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/18582","targetHints":{"allow":["GET"]}}],"collection":[{"href":"https:\/\/inksweatandtears.co.uk\/archive\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts"}],"about":[{"href":"https:\/\/inksweatandtears.co.uk\/archive\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/types\/post"}],"author":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/inksweatandtears.co.uk\/archive\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/users\/4"}],"replies":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/inksweatandtears.co.uk\/archive\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/comments?post=18582"}],"version-history":[{"count":1,"href":"https:\/\/inksweatandtears.co.uk\/archive\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/18582\/revisions"}],"predecessor-version":[{"id":18583,"href":"https:\/\/inksweatandtears.co.uk\/archive\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/18582\/revisions\/18583"}],"wp:attachment":[{"href":"https:\/\/inksweatandtears.co.uk\/archive\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/media?parent=18582"}],"wp:term":[{"taxonomy":"category","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/inksweatandtears.co.uk\/archive\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/categories?post=18582"},{"taxonomy":"post_tag","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/inksweatandtears.co.uk\/archive\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/tags?post=18582"}],"curies":[{"name":"wp","href":"https:\/\/api.w.org\/{rel}","templated":true}]}}
\nFebruary 1963<\/em><\/p>\n
\nand we are soon to leave the town.
\nAgainst the stage-set of raucous rooks
\nwhose interminable chatter gives them
\ninformation before the rest of us,
\nheart-to-hearts, cacophonous, the gossips are out.<\/p>\n
\nprepare to let go,
\ndays of skipping school following the bliss
\nof winter white-out
\nwe regularly tramp our fields on the edge of the ridge
\nto check our birthing ewes.
\nEach morning we try to reach them first.<\/p>\n
\nand out garden\u2019s frozen crevices
\nand over in Whitemoor-Meadow
\nfox prints skate field\u2019s-rim, lead to a gap in the fence.
\nEach day new-born lambs cold with snow
\nare dying, hunted by scavengers –
\nhooded crows, common-gulls.
\nWe come upon them jettisoned in the hedge,
\nhaunted, taking in the hollows of their pecked-out eyes.<\/p>\n
\nThe super-flock in Dagger\u2019s Close fall silent,
\nwhilst the latest bereft lone ewe\u2019s lament
\nechoes across our redland ridge
\nfrom linhay over lychgate,
\nrising in air above the quieted rookery,
\nspeaking inconsolable love.<\/p>\n
\nDaddy\u2019s calm presence consoling me,
\nwe follow the nightly routine,
\nwalking home a full-moon lights our path.
\nAnother cold-blast along our frost-bitten track \u2013
\nanimal-spoors are runes arrowing our future way.
\nWe wonder if tomorrow will start the thaw.<\/p>\n