This poem is taken from PN Review 36, Volume 10 Number 4, March - April 1984.
Myopia in Rupert Brooke Country
Birds, feathers, a few leaves, flakes of soot -
things start to fall. The stubble has been burned,
and the fields are striped in black and gold.
Elsewhere, the hay is still drying on long racks:
bulky men prancing about on slender hooves,
unconvincing as pantomime cattle . . . A hedgehog
lies rolled over on its side like a broken castor.
Abandoned in one corner is a caravan that has
...
things start to fall. The stubble has been burned,
and the fields are striped in black and gold.
Elsewhere, the hay is still drying on long racks:
bulky men prancing about on slender hooves,
unconvincing as pantomime cattle . . . A hedgehog
lies rolled over on its side like a broken castor.
Abandoned in one corner is a caravan that has
...
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