The shadow of a robin
Cross the bathroom floor.
Anonymous hills
Pass and pass and pass by us
On our Oxford train.
Outer space feels close
Watching the moon and black sea
From England’s south coast.
Where a white duck swam
Through half-submerged tree branches
I stopped for a while.
A thickening mist
In the tall, darkening woods
Boldens my dusk run.
Why should that dark crow,
That haggard bag of feathers,
Seem a wise old sage.
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