Ash
Ash falling over the abandoned fields
as if into the middle of the summer there could steal
warm snow, not noticeably weighing down
the foliage, it is so slight and grey; not drifting high
like summer's other snow-fall, thistle down.
This winter there was an exceptional snow
that fell long and froze fast enough to lie
for weeks, until we wondered, were we being warned
of an approaching age of cold, or of some other slow
grey coming-down of floccoons, such as here is borne
on faint wind, settling over all of us
not far enough away from the bonfire but not near enough.