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Here’s a series of haiku for you in the manner of a Medieval Book of Labours:

The Perpetual Calendar


In January

he drinks by the fire,

mulling things over.

II

An icy landscape:

he raises his sharp axe blade,

then floats logs downstream.

III

March is for digging

and setting seeds in the fields;

sowing what they’ll reap.

IV

A flowering branch

is borne in April:

fertility sign?

V

Hawking is fine sport,

though not as lively as love-

but the bird is faithful.

VI

Hats keep off the sun.

It is the month of mowing.

All flesh is as grass.

VII

Sickles cutting corn..

thick- fleeced sheep need to be shorn.

It’s hot wearing boots.

VIII

Threshing with a flail,

his mouth set in a grim line

of concentration.

IX

Now vintage is here.

Grape clusters are as large

as those in Canaan.

X

Birds snatch winter seed

as fast as he can sow it.

Is there no respite?

XI

Knocking down acorns

provides some variety

and will plump his pigs.

XII

Pigsticking’s grim work:

a December catharsis-

feasting, then fasting.

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