Harvest lament

This is when we harvest

What we sowed in Spring

And saw in June, July and

August; this is the cut and

Dry, the funeral of the year

When we still have its aged

Flesh with us in the room,

Testament to the wind, the

Rain, the sun and the long

Days spent filling up with

Juice and flavour, ready for

The journey back to ground,

Earth, soil: core to core.