the Spinstress

In the Spring,
when the foxes run

The heralding blossoms
still vital and young

I dream of
what might be
  (If I had bore a son)



In the Summer,
When the huntsman come

The woodland creatures
know they must succumb


A clarion to their triumphs--
Both glorified
   and unfulfilled



And in the Autumn,
when I lay with M'lord

The trees grow stark
The marquis takes up his sword


Entrusting that his mistress
  grows fruitful with his seed



In the dour Winter,
An open Abbey window
  (She has ended her life)


A cold and barren winter,
it was--

A cold and barren wife






AEC/2012