The new spring;
Rain fresh like spray on the ground,
I heard the oyster catcher call all night
Their hooting and their wailing.
The swallows left splashes
Like dropped paint in the cloister;
Hung their houses from roof tops
- globe-like miracles -
The night would not come,
And the distant whirr of cutting grass,
Weeding out the beds,
The dog smelling through
The garden gate.
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