Fay Slimm.

RESILIENCE.

 

 

Resilience.

 

Tell me a winter-clad tale
of ponds frost-coated and
sad bloated fish in death\'s
breathless grasp, of misty
twilight\'s snow-blind drift
over sheep-dotted hills to
farmhouse cowl, of wind\'s
sudden howling in rafters,
raising rattle and draught.  

 

Tell me of frozen-backed
cattle in safety\'s cold stall
chewing the cud, of fields
thigh-high in white flakes
neatly piled around frigid
seedlings\' stiffened green,
           of hard-handed breeds at             
sweat\'s laboured digging 
in search of missed ewes,
of lambs\' bleating hunger,
and calves losing mothers
in mass stumble for cover.

 

Tell me the story of never
say No when a going gets
tough, of folk whose hold
on tomorrow shines with
dis-entombed hope, when
after bad-weather-losses
shrugs of wide shoulders
in string-fastened jackets
tip hats and step forward,
raw fingered, yet willingly
ready despite the winter\'s 
hard freeze to battle again.

 

Clad in strongest resilience
such men and their women.