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This poem is taken from PN Review 11, Volume 6 Number 3, January - February 1980.

Two Poems Peter Jay

      For Richard Holmes and Joanna Latimer

At the Table
In the bare, low-ceilinged attic
Of my friends' rented cottage, I sit
By the window at the old table with fake
Marble top and ill-fitting leaves, bought cheap
For the work I have too long put off.
Sharply the moon climbs out
Of the banked clouds wheeling across the hill;
In the crowded orchard, the pond
Shines with a ripple of shadows, yellow and black.
Here I have seen out the summer, watching
The far fields hazy-mauve in the afternoon,
The fireline creeping over the cropped hill-
Watching the last bright apple
Missed for a week by the pickers,
At the top of the nearest tree.

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