Woodlands Farm
Poetry by Clare Best
July
Thirty degrees and rising
dyke-mud shrinks and crusts, mosquitoes
hatch from cracks. Cattle shade cattle,
their red tails flick.
High-wired starlings write lines of hieroglyphs
against the white-hot sky;
noon, no breeze, high summer
halting at the top, and over.
Clare's Poems
More poetry inspired by her time at Woodlands Farm.
- Winter packers, after Cézanne
- Conversion
- Black Rock chicks
- (i) Reading Lincoln Red
- (ii) Listening to Lincoln Red
- Treasure Ground
- Apple Trees
- Charlie
- Tractor with Plough
- In the Market Garden
- Candling turkey eggs
- Airman
- Organic poem
- January, morning
- March, afternoon
- Kitchen table after market
- I hear heads expanding
- My incredible Romanesco cauliflower
- Huexolotlin
- Corn drier at Struggs Hill
- New Year
- August
- September, after harvest
- Seed potatoes near the Wash
- May
- Rain at Woodlands
- July
- The coming of the name-givers
- The Elms
- Going to the Fens
- Window
- From Woodlands kitchen, midwinter
- Walking the fields
- Rainmaker
- Bloodsworth field, June
- What it takes
- Red onion harvest