As the Team’s Head Brass – Edward Thomas

On popping into the Railway Bell (my favourite local pub), I fell into conversation with an acquaintence who reminded me of this poem.

Move Him Into The Sun

‘As the Team’s Head Brass’

As the team’s head-brass flashed out on the turn
The lovers disappeared into the wood.
I sat among the boughs of the fallen elm
That strewed the angle of the fallow, and
Watched the plough narrowing a yellow square
Of charlock. Every time the horses turned
Instead of treading me down, the ploughman leaned
Upon...