The wet weather brings on growth
The grass is lengthening
fattening bellies and filling out young calves.
Later this summer it will be harvested
for winter fodder as gently fermenting silage.
Wildflowers lurk in the meadows
and open on the hillsides
perfuming slow moving air.
It also brings on weeds,
thistles, nettles, ragwort
weeds notifiable to and by the authorities
that I am bound to control
as are my neighbours
(windblown seed is no respecter of boundaries).
The dockans are massing
great gatherings of broadleaved marauders
shading out the grass
depriving the animals
breaking up pasture.
They trumpet their invasion
of damp places rich in manured run off.
They whisper of managerial failure,
dereliction of duty.
They are the vandals at the gate
of my small city.
To arms my forces!
The seed is setting
le vent se leve;
I fell them in swathes.