¡¡¡¡A thick crust£¬ coarse-grained as limestone rough-cast£¬
¡¡¡¡hardened gradually on top of the four crocks
¡¡¡¡that stood£¬ large pottery bombs£¬ in the small pantry¡£
¡¡¡¡After the hot brewery of gland£¬ cud and udder£¬
¡¡¡¡cool porous earthenware fermented the butter milk
¡¡¡¡for churning day£¬ when the hooped churn was scoured
¡¡¡¡with plumping kettles and the busy scrubber
¡¡¡¡echoed daintily on the seasoned wood¡£
¡¡¡¡It stood then£¬ purified£¬ on the flagged kitchen floor¡£
¡¡¡¡Out came the four crocks£¬ spilled their heavy lip
¡¡¡¡of cream£¬ their white insides£¬ into the sterile churn¡£
¡¡¡¡The staff£¬ like a great whiskey muddler fashioned
¡¡¡¡in deal wood£¬ was plunged in£¬ the lid fitted¡£
¡¡¡¡My mother took first turn£¬ set up rhythms
¡¡¡¡that£¬ slugged and thumped for hours¡£ Arms ached¡£
¡¡¡¡Hands blistered¡£ Cheeks and clothes were spattered
¡¡¡¡with flabby milk¡£
¡¡¡¡Where finally gold flecks
¡¡¡¡began to dance¡£ They poured hot water then£¬
¡¡¡¡sterilized a birchwood bowl
¡¡¡¡and little corrugated butter-spades¡£
¡¡¡¡Their short stroke quickened£¬ suddenly
¡¡¡¡a yellow curd was weighting the churned-up white£¬
¡¡¡¡heavy and rich£¬ coagulated sunlight
¡¡¡¡that they fished£¬ dripping£¬ in a wide tin strainer£¬
¡¡¡¡heaped up like gilded gravel in the bowl¡£
¡¡¡¡The house would stink long after churning day£¬
¡¡¡¡acrid as a sulphur mine¡£ The empty crocks
¡¡¡¡were ranged along the wall again£¬ the butter
¡¡¡¡in soft printed slabs was piled on pantry shelves¡£
¡¡¡¡And in the house we moved with gravid ease£¬
¡¡¡¡our brains turned crystals full of clean deal churns£¬
¡¡¡¡the plash and gurgle of the sour-breathed milk
¡¾A thick crustÓ¢ÓïÊ«¸è¡¿Ïà¹ØÎÄÕ£º
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