Furze and Bramble
after John Clare
the old hedge where furze and bramble grow thick as the thoughts that come to me when I sit here with the sun on my back and the earthy smell of fallen leaves the blackthorn berries ripe as my memories of summers past and winters gone
the way the light filters through the thorns and illuminates the dusty ground where a snail’s trail glistens like a tear and the wildflowers sway in the breeze their petals like the pages of a book worn and dogeared from being handled
I took John Clare's attention to detail and love of rural life, and applied it to a specific scene of a hedge with furze and bramble. I tried to capture his conversational tone and use of vernacular language to describe the natural world.