a gallimaufry

‘Out in the dark’, by Edward Thomas

Out in the dark over the snow
The fallow fawns invisible go
With the fallow doe;
And the winds blow
Fast as the stars are slow.

Stealthily the dark haunts round
And, when a lamp goes, without sound
At a swifter bound
Than the swiftest hound,
Arrives, and all else is drowned;

And I and star and wind and deer
Are in the dark together,—near,
Yet far,—and fear
Drums on my ear
In that sage company drear.

How weak and little is the light,
All the universe of sight,
Love and delight,
Before the might,
If you love it not, of night.

(Edward Thomas, from Collected Poems, Oxford University Press)

Today is a terrible day. Thinking of everyone in Ukraine.

 

[Digging I], by Edward Thomas

(Harry Becker, Man Hedging, oil on canvas board, 1913–1928; Colchester and Ipswich Museums)

Today I think
Only with scents, —scents dead leaves yield,
And bracken, and wild carrot’s seed,
And the square mustard field;

Odours that rise
When the spade wounds the roots of tree,
Rose, currant, raspberry, or goutweed,
Rhubarb or celery;

The smoke’s smell, too,
Flowing from where a bonfire burns
The dead, the waste, the dangerous,
And all to sweetness turns.

It is enough
To smell, to crumble the dark earth
While the robin sings over again
Sad songs of autumn mirth.

(From The Collected Poems of Edward Thomas, edited by R. George Thomas, Oxford: Oxford University Press, 1991 reprint)