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The fallow time is ending
You had better be ready
With your plans of where
To plough and what to scatter
When the celandines
Have withered their yolk
Back down to earth
The fallow time is ending
You had better be off
Your backside ready
To make haste or you
Will make no hay
The milk moon will
Glide down the western sky
And set without a thought of you
The fallow time is ending
Lighter nights have slipped by
Beware the birds of spring
Are gathering twigs for nesting
There is no valid reason
To falter.  Seize the season
By the violets in the hedgerows
By the clearness or the sky
By the warming of the earth
This is the time to do or die.
Two nights running this
Stormlight has warned me
Out on the flagstaff
The pennant is torn and
I hear your threat
Ruffle over the water
Chilled menace
A cold tantara
My sword was never sheathed
Though I am old and tired
In stillness I wait by
A dying fire
The rising storm deprives me of sleep
And out there a wolf is eyeing the sheep
Storm closes in
Sparks flare in the hearth
I close my eyes and
Probe into your heart
Know this -
I was warned years before
I became tired and old
I do not fear your darkness
And in its path the sigil holds.
Pigeons rise with
Almost a thump
Before the clatter
Single downy feather falls
Cat that disturbed them
Checks for a second
Trots on unheeding.
You chose this time of
Apples and acorns
When the veil is thin as a
Lifting mist and
The sun dies earlier night after night.
Must we look another way
To find our hope or
Do you wish us to forsake it?
We cannot let it fade
Into the sparkling frost
Of morning.
I am changed since I was seen in spring
From that great season of fetch and carry
I was thin and tufted from the moult
Do you know me as I skip through hedges
Behold my fresh attire
Black, white and russet like the leaves that
Tumble through the ditches
Do you know these dainty paws that trot
Through bracken and tussock
Do you see me dance and prance and play?
Do you feel my mischief that may
Borrow items you think you own and
Install them in my burrow home?
I am pricking black ears.  Do you recognise me?
I am dancing daintily under the trees
Crepuscular beauty in the silence of dawn
Nibbler of brambles, digger in lawns
Scavenger, loper, suspicious of man
Black-tipped, white-tipped fox I am.
Death stretched out a skeletal hand
Here ends the life of a mortal man
My master sensed the departing ghost so
Brace yourself for the coming host!
Such paltry grasp of higher powers -
Stand aside!  This one's ours.
The ravens went out and have
Given a sign
They located the prey but
The mission is mine
I drop from the bough and
Go into free fall
Then open my wings and
Glide over it all
Mortal world washed in
Weakening sun
The hordes of men like
Tides of ****
The riders mount.  The horses champ
The sun sinks like a burning lamp
They hear no hooves, no crow, no cry
Those encircling he who died
The grievers standing by his corpse
They see no reigns, no spear, no horse
I hover briefly, see my goal
In one black flash I grab the soul
Then up, up into the coming storm
That takes us north, that takes us home
The wind rises, clouds reel
In my shadow the riders wheel
Metal crimson in setting sun
Swing your gates Valhalla! Here we come!
The night is here.  The ride was long.  
The pole star blinks once and is gone
I see the Bridge with
Its shimmering arc
The ice and fire aglow
In the dark
The riders thunder round the stables
I swoop in low over the gable
To the hammer wielder,
Mane of gold
Behold me, Thunor!
Catch this soul!
Science fiction moon
Hangs over horizon
Half itself and orange
Like a desert,
Poised and ominous.
Night is busy doing
That breath-holding thing
It does when it's
Shielding a secret.
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