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This poem is taken from PN Review 212, Volume 39 Number 6, July - August 2013.

Two Poems Rory Waterman
The Fields Over Winceby Battlefield

Sown every year, mown and ploughed every year.
Each January now, machine-sliced loaves of muck
clutter the acres across this jigsaw of cropland,
dour and mute. In March the shoots, the hares,
gunshots and starlings bursting from the holts;
then late spring with its height, downpours, dried snails.

Over the overgrown hedge at the edge

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