A feat of Feathered heels.

As the hook pierced its summit 

the worm that grew to climb a peak 

From out beneath straw hat with pursed Lips 

that it contains wreaths of cross swords 

As they tried to cultivate staves like men

from withering heart within fields 

where Collars that were hung 

as memorial flags Above abode of doors 

Shuttering Of a changeable season

as feathered heels are slipped Back on.

To walk amongst chimes as strangers

Sit in circles twisting Daisy’s for the 

Lost that flew Over and above 

the imported Norwegian pine.

reconsider the rooks and then recount 

steps back to windmill with a view 

of tea hills that became chalk stretching out.