Regrets – we’ve had a few, and today our poet Barbara Hickson sifts through the ashes of experience. But once there was sunshine, and a yellow field. It is Day 777 of the Daily Poems.
The yellow field
When the fire subsides and I find myself
scratching through ashes,
searching for answers,
call to me from the greyness
of the smoke-filled sky, tell me why
we never tire of sifting
through our shortcomings;
remind me of the yellow field
where we sat one summer morning,
waist deep in sunshine,
our questions so weightless
buttercups held them.
Barbara Hickson
First published in Barbara’s pamphlet A Kind of Silence, Maytree Press 2021