AS light as its subject-matter, this little piece by naturalist-cleric Andrew Young catches the mood of meadows in high summer.

It comes from his Selected Poems (Carcanet).

THISTLEDOWN

Silver against blue sky

These ghosts of day float by,

Fitful, irregular,

Each one a silk-haired star,

Till from the wind's aid freed

They settle on their seed.

Not by the famished light

Of a moon-ridden night

But by clear sunny hours

Gaily these ghosts of flowers

With rise and swirl and fall

Dance to their burial.