22
PARTISAN REVIEW
Proud legs pacing this century
Like a fair distance in a duel,
Some legs will come upon their death
As you walk towards the forest pool.
Proud eyes, proud nose, proud ears, proud legs,
Ride on your horses, the machine
Is unwinding in the human clock,
The time is short, the pool is green.
The son will see the scarecrow now,
The rags will run before the knife,
The bird escape before the rags,
And insect fly for insect's life.
Insect will reach the water's edge,
And bird will dive into the pool,
And son will follow scarecrow down,
And you will die an heirless fool.
George Woodcock
MERTHYRMAWR
Sunday evening. The thick-lipped men binoculared
Steal through the geometric groves of pines,
Observing the steady and fatal hands of poachers
And the young loving in wrinkles of the dunes.
Grey in the wind sand tides against the turrets,
And watchful sight is bridged towards the sea,
Where silent the marram defends a wearing land
And the seagulls climb like Junkers a plaster sky.
The air is alive with voices. The loving whisper,
The rodent scream at neck-constricting hand,
Gulls' earthless wail and dank watchers' laughter.
Always the wind whistles through teeth of sand.
