Dots and dashes

I was looking out a train window on my way from Newcastle to Edinburgh and was struck by how the fence rows flashed by almost like a Morse code message. It was telling a story of dozens of neighbouring farmers and their families living side by side beneath the same sky for generations striving to at least survive.

The dashes and dots

Of the tattered windrows

Flashing by my train window

Were like some obscure morse code

The key long lost

In the mists of time 

Leaving only a hint 

there was ever a message 

To decipher from some long ago

lost farmers’ hands.

Of borders drawn peacefully

rooted  on both sides

an agreement to

a shared responsibility 

To care for the land

to produce and sustain

to provide and succour

A family

A community,

Together yet apart

Divided but whole

And while now frayed

by time and cares

the windrows still spoke

of a simpler, truer, if harder time

when apart together 

we lived and loved