Chaff

Chaff

When the crop is safely gathered in

When the valued grains are pulled away

Then we are straw, and we are only chaff

Forced to live upon the gleanings and the leavings

When the creamy cheese has formed its curds

When the butter has been turned and churned

Then we are whey, and we are poured away

Fit for only cattle and for pigs

When the fruit is picked and carried home

When the trees have been emptied of their bounty

Then we are leaves, and we are broken twigs

Not even worth the sweeping

When the bread is risen and has been baked

When the loaves are shared and sliced

Then we are crumbs, and we are but dusting flour

Cleared from the table into the bin

When the beer is brewed and well fermented

When the casks of ale are drunk and emptied

Then we are lees, and we are only ullage

Poured away and down the drain

And when the fires burn our dwellings

And when the towers turn to charnel-houses

Then we are ash, and we are only cinders

The residue, the forgotten of society

And when the screams of death have faded

And when the desperate shouting’s fallen quiet

Then we are but an echo, just a faint vibration

Of a voice that no-one ever heard

Copytight Andy Fawthrop 2019