Sunday, 10 March 2013

In Punnetts Town

Those moles’ve ruined my garden
—atrabilious Sussex burr:
Granddad beaming, incisorless:
chequered slippers and cardigan;
wire spectacles, freckled hair.
Piglets chunter beyond the fence.

Within the beehive bungalow:
jars of quince and bramble jelly;
tomatoes, radishes, beetroot;
wheatfield-scapes; vanquished piano;
a clangorous Blind O’Reilly;
the rank bouquet of bereavement.

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