This poem is taken from PN Review 34, Volume 10 Number 2, November - December 1983.
Two PoemsLess than a day from April,
The wax white, compact
Hyacinth is up.
And petals in a sky
Trailing a fringe of drizzle,
Cling to the gusty Almond.
Daffodil clumps are swept
Like weed combed by a brook.
The loam underfoot is mish-mash
Pasted over with oakleaf.
Knocked about drives with potholes
Go where the barns moulder.
Pert above waterlogged gravel,
Blue tits flit at table;
Woodpeckers cheerfully hammer
Cantankerous morning together.
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