Fay Slimm.

Familiar.

 

 

Familiar.

 

Here are the fields as they have always been.

The copses, the crops.

the sheep in the meadow.

Nature, tho\' heedless knows sameness heals

with relentless rhythms

as she reaches her home.

 

She sees the same woods where gypsies gathered

around flickering fires 

with fiddler playing.

She feels the music that once made her heart dance

walking the ways

of familiar again.