a silent grieving

Was generously given the pictured 1976 collection this week - it's mentioned on the Sorley Maclean website here ...

... and this is a short poem from within:


A Grieving for Hedges

That Sunday we went rifling the hedges,
Easing away strand by strand
Straggling honeysuckle, but giving no quarter
To blackberries, consuming them out of hand.
Yet in the teeth of death they showed their mettle
- Each according to their colour
Of his coat; red bit back, purple
Spurted out defiance.  But the gentle honeysuckle,
Brought home and set up captive in our parlour,
Has scented her exile with a silent grieving
For hedges, breathing her heart out at our thieving.

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Derek Bowman

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