Eeksy-Peeksy

augury doggerel

Friday, July 18, 2003

Slip

This morning early, fast through the long grass, a girl hoists her skirt to her hips and runs on silly shoes. Bare stick legs through wet grass, past the moles and chamomile and poppies and thistles and snails. When she gets to the tracks, she plucks at the band of her pants, tucks and straightens herself, walks a little, stops again. Her heels settle gravel and she looks.



Frances Cornford, "To a Fat Lady Seen from the Train":

O why do you walk through the fields in gloves,
Missing so much and so much?
O fat white woman whom nobody loves,
Why do you walk through the fields in gloves,
When the grass is soft as the breast of doves
And shivering-sweet to the touch?
O why do you walk through the fields in gloves,
Missing so much and so much?

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