#22 Grey Abbey by Emma McKervey

Grey Abbey

The Abbey walls have a pinkish hue,

and coupled with the wearing down

of hundreds of years, alongside the attacks

of the odd marauding invader,

present themselves as a giant coral reef

left high and dry, fragments of many calcified lives

laid out in Cistercian geometry.

These peachy rocks have been softened

by the winds and rains, and even by the sun

which manages to shine here sometimes.

The dentured peaks and falls present stain-less windows

which have freeze framed the sky –

pure white and expensive lapis blue haloed in gold.

Close by the trunks of the Scots Pines

have also softened to a shade of warmed flesh

whose bark must have been brown and grey once

as that’s what we’re told trees should be.

Look at the resolute yew at the gate though;

squat and dark – it holds its bottle green in the shade,

the dark brown of its skin maintained in its own shadow.