Along the reedy bank. He came too late.
You gently yawned and stacked away your plate. We heard the wind. We heard it rush and throw 480 Twigs at the windowpane. Phone ringing? No. I helped you with the dishes. The tall clock Kept on demolishing young root, old rock.
"Midnight," you said. What's midnight to the young? And suddenly a festive blaze was flung Across five cedar trunks, snowpatches showed, And a patrol car on our bumpy road Came to a crunching stop. Retake, retake!
People have thought she tried to cross the lake At Lochan Neck where zesty skaters crossed 490
From Exe to Wye on days of special frost. Others supposed she might have lost her way By turning left from Bridgeroad; and some say She took her poor young life. I know. You know.
It was a night of thaw, a night of blow, With great excitement in the air. Black spring Stood just around the corner, shivering
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