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This poem is taken from PN Review 36, Volume 10 Number 4, March - April 1984.

Bird-Watcher Clive Wilmer
It returns to the same nest. The watcher lies
Beneath spring brushwood to await its coming -
At watch so long he dreams himself becoming
Less than himself and more, the landscape's eyes.

Though far beyond his eyes, beyond the range
Of field-glasses, he knows it breaks no bonds:
Its instinct to his knowledge corresponds,
Riding the current of the season's change.
...


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