Hares Hill

Posting early on a dozing suburban hill Mays warming morning rises and Gently wakes. The dewy hares move through the Earthy till, Small dry twigs the nesting pigeons take. Blue-high sky clear as an Ocean Layers the heat upon red brick streets; Roads built over stubbled tracts Deeply rutted from the ploughs devotion, Where once great fields of swaying wheat. Covered by neat gardens of square disproportion where blackbirds scold and tumble Between the breeze; Rushing madly through the tangled, Variegated fauna, Dashing around lines of neatly Planted trees. Quietly strolling the waking hour Comes brightly, Tripping like the splashing, pebble Washed stream: Wistfully recalling the woodsman, Elk, and otter, As it flows away, Forever lost in dreams.