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On a Day of Power-line Maintenance

Russell Erwin

Mar 01 2012

1 mins

Notified duly—of course, as was their duty.
No excuses—I’d forgotten, of course.
So, this morning: … Off.
                                         The radio mid-word,
The fridge slurred and shuddered.

There were trees blowing about outside,
Magpies among the split and bowing crowns,
Crows farther off. And farther off.

As if air off snow had chilled all about
This house was fresh, scoured.
Now I could hear its little noises,
Murmurings, this only child talking to itself,

And thought how like those of the body
When the hours are a country hard under moonlight,
We like a small animal in hiding, listen.
We, strangers listening to the syllables of another tongue.
 

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