| That thin mechanic air bringing Thomas Hardy such heidde gerian Care across the thresh hold of a century now swirls at my door gob lets of silence never quite amesh tiny gongs of crystal |
ajar reticent sparks of renunciation hov er ov er sycamore and porch, air of resig nation, swirl ing in the very midst of blighted headstones—thin mechanic tint touch ing the cheeks of that country blonde holding a lamp in the casement. then that air tracing the tint of a century brings the scent of Thomas Hardy’s carriage (hooves and horsefart) moving in stir ruped hei ddegerean rhythm on dusty battered wessex roads balding mustached british poet in the vested suit starched white collar. come festering through the brok en carriage windows finch and thrush, brash starling, fractious jay, dove and cuckoo—all manner of creatures that squawk and squeak and thunk and thirl and thud O Thomas thom as hardyger that thin mech an ic air!
Stanley Nelson
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