Poem – Trumbull Stickney’s “Mnemosyne”

It’s autumn in the country I remember. How warm a wind blew here about the ways! And shadows on the hillside lay to slumber During the long sun-sweetened summer-days. It’s cold abroad the country I remember. The swallows veering skimmed the golden grain At midday with a wing aslant and limber; And yellow cattle browsed …

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Tuesday poem – “Fault”

A mistake. An error of judgement. A penalty brought against a quiet city. Stroll through the park, lunchtime almost over. A defect, a small disappointment. A summer day laden with clouds, grey light that softens the walls, the stone and brick, the glass. Less than expected. Someone to blame. A sparrow rests lightly on the …