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On this darkish day
On this darkish day
Near the graved river's gaze,
Warm colours fall.
Amber and carmine confer;
Crumpled on the crushed carpet
Floor, autumn shades brawl.
Bleeding under clotted clouds,
Heavy with grieving tears-
Long ago, my lightfast fears
In the plate steel sun,
When the granite wind laughs
To the thistled turf.
By the overcast grass,
Solemn oaks awash with gold-
Their gleaming leaves cascade
To the waxed dew
Lingering, near desolate lakes
Draped on this new day's hue.
Crawling past the swans'
Wandering clapped wingbeat-
Wielded in the winnowing,
The lissom-larked-whistle
Break of the early birds,
And my tobacco glances.
Lance these senile old stalks,
Their nicotine stained branches
Bowed below a coughing throat-
When the winter's pallid slum
Of sun hung, still unsung
In the tusked noon.
Beneath brooding gusts-
Past trekking hedgerows
And the horizon's glare-
The nonchalant cows hoofing
On battle scarred fields, crowd
Proudly under bygone skies.
Their roving eyes glide-
Betrayed, as beige horses bray,
To the swarming flies
Shrilly neighs, and foals sway
Upon green stubbled vales,
Vested by the golden hay.
And I, chiding the cursed-
Sun's flames falling, but knowing,
Nature can calm the gnawed
Fire in my thawed morning,
The matter of grey words forming-
Warming this crooked heart, cloaked
And concealed, roaming alone,
Stoned on this cloth white day.
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