An Atomical Labour

tight thoughts toil, as threads in head uncoil ideas plaited, intent's tug escort through dilate pupils. umbrella lashes shady look was all it took- inception outspooked at artful spirit's raid, inkling's snapline birth twine in tensile mind, sprinkling notion's seeds. Small things become divine. II dark temples tip to face the earth. small beads of sweat, wet film on upper lip, drops glisten-slide- incessant glide off chin... the downturned mouth slack, sucks air in. sultry air sticks to skin, sky- cupped copppery sun flings fistfulls of harsh-face heat at human's hands, bared back, red burnt ears. III stung by midday's rays, her feet squirm in sandals. a little trickle trails loosely down her spine, centres her in query. how fits old age in time? as languid mind wanders to and fro, it wonders how to weave and spin a scritch-scratch sketch without a page and pencil- life is often paperthin. but then, skull cocooons such arty sparks, wraps mind's eye round work-weighted back and automatic way arm muscles contract, bunch, then relax... IV automatic, he drops, hunched on haunches- old heavy breaths squat dull haloes in hot air. gnarled digits dig and grip grass, rip roots up and out. soil shakes free with flails' repeated earth-bound smacks. cordline marks his pathline. straight stakes curve serpentine. tidy, calm, dark grey stepping stones lay flat between fresh greenleaved skinny trees. on uprright trunks young growth clings to sinew stems. V and then, again, automatic, he slices soil with spade's deep drive to dislodge grassy clumps and clods. forgiving ground gives in, gives back fine sand that puffs sporadic snorts of dust that lands on lips, bonds to solid jaw, nasal hairs. he licks clean his teeth, and spits away wet mash VI man, age old mortar- vassel to death's pestle- caves in, staved in, back-broken tired... mechanicsfoul notions wired with snarled emotions- pathways all ways snaking, turn twisted and burning beneath the searing scowl of a sizzling sun. VII now mindful, she senses unearthed details divine. books them in back of mind. reserved interest detains others' losses, pains, gains- fixated in a future time. 22/7/2018. ( This is a looooong poem- thank you very much for reading!)