Finding Them There, 12/10/40
They listen
to the chimes at three,
Huddled against the easterly.
Eyes hide in the dark
And mouths speak of bodies long gone.
Huddled against the easterly.
Eyes hide in the dark
And mouths speak of bodies long gone.
I love the fuzziness of deep night
And gently approach them, smiling blind.
They listen only for the change in air
From background blur to the faintest hum
Of enemy planes.
Twigs cracking under my boots warn them
Of far closer danger and – breaking into atoms –
They leave me suddenly alone
In my light-polluted garden,
More dead than any that lived here
On their nerves.
And gently approach them, smiling blind.
They listen only for the change in air
From background blur to the faintest hum
Of enemy planes.
Twigs cracking under my boots warn them
Of far closer danger and – breaking into atoms –
They leave me suddenly alone
In my light-polluted garden,
More dead than any that lived here
On their nerves.
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