Russet, pink, and blood red skies
Connections raw and sweet
Tears and triumphs
Quiet contemplation
And deepening
Of self, and others

Grief laden sheep
Their cries far into the night
Full of loss and pain
Hard to bear
But bear it we must
We mothers, who gave life
Then had to say goodbye

Peaceful grass
Where it had been
Flattened, then drenched
Becoming springy and warm
With the blazing sun
To lie and embrace upon
All things, all things, are there
In that certain field in Derbyshire