Poems
Quiet Country Still
This is still quiet country.
The things that happen
Leave it quieter still
The Touch
If a child fell from a tree, or raved
with fever, or a father came in hurt
from the fields, I was the one who raced
Left Bank
This old street, which still dreams of being
central again one day, cannot change itself.
The new shops are always the same kinds
Garden Party
At some strange distance, the good children
are playing among the metal chairs
in the patio; laugh after laugh
The Delivery Man
When the delivery man called after tea
he let in before him such an easterly,
and he stepped down the hallway so briskly,