Pastoral

It begins in the rooks, in their rasping.

Before childhood is left undone.

Before bitter nights of burning things.

With a boy, a girl, a new home, a field.

With a ripe imagination.

With a woman and her world of straw.

It begins back when to run was to play.

Grows out of TV, out of games.

Grows out of a wasteland at town’s end.