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From "Huntingdonshire Nocturnes".(Poem)

Quadrant

| April 01, 2004 | Greening, John | COPYRIGHT 2004 Quadrant Magazine Company, Inc. This material is published under license from the publisher through the Gale Group, Farmington Hills, Michigan.  All inquiries regarding rights should be directed to the Gale Group. (Hide copyright information)Copyright
 
FROM "HUNTINGDONSHIRE NOCTURNES" 
 
   One evening we went to look for willows on the Godmanchester 
   Commons. 
   Tree Wardens, we were being led by the Tree Officer 
   for Huntingdonshire. Gravel territory, where time ran out 
   and the gavel 
 
   gouged its crater in the earth, where Ouse quakes in its orbit. 
   We walked into the dark and found the poor old men 
   dying of neglect, unpollarded, valueless: willows crying out 
 
   to be made into baskets or chairs, ready to split themselves 
   in two with the weight of their own inheritance. Dictionaries 
   whispering 
   over and over ...
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Source: HighBeam Research, From "Huntingdonshire Nocturnes".(Poem)

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