THE DESPOILED

Posted 1 May 2012

​after a visit to Fountains Abbey


Grass
an immense ruined shell
and ancient fear.

In the nave
a startled rabbit
flees into a blind alley
crouches
with its face to the wall.

Over centuries it touches me:
            the patient work
            of stone on stone
            the lifting of archway and span
            pillar and corbel
            higher and higher
            to the glory of God
            and the hubris of Man.

I can still see the vanished wings
the grave saints who graced
niche and pediment
their mute spaces
sighing into the wind, the bitter wind
that blows through history
bearing threads of plainsong
and the cries of the beaten and banished

shrunk now
to a pigeon's croon
and the thud
of a terrified rabbit's foot.


©Jane Abrahams
May 2011