This poem is taken from PN Review 31, Volume 9 Number 5, May - June 1983.
Rain Bird Oswald
I stand under a leafless tree
more still, in this mousepattering
thrum of rain,
than cattle shifting in the field.
It is more dark than light.
A Chinese painter's brush of deepening grey
moves in a subtle tide.
The beasts are darker islands now.
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