Michael Longley
The Shaker Barn
I would lie down with you here, side by side,
Our own memorials in what amounts to
The Shakers’ cathedral, this circular hay barn,
The two of us fieldmice under storeys of hay,
Tons of hay, a column of hay that changes
The ceiling into a gigantic waggon wheel
Or a rose window made entirely of wood
Which we can see through as far as the sky.
Editor’s Note: This is a corrected version of a poem printed inaccurately in Thumbscrew 7. Apologies to author and readers.
Page(s) 73
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