Douglas Dunn
Bucolics
For whom the dawn opens for love and work
That are not troublesome or just routine —
Are there any? Dawns say that there have been
Some glad to get up without feeling unstuck.
In the fields there is such duty, getting stiff
And hungry, loving much, where hippogriff
And phoenix are daft wonders in the tomes
Invalids scan. He should have held the fantasy,
Thrown up school for the fields and honeycombs
And been a versifier with a plough,
Sweet and rugged, aloof and thought crazy
On the farm. It makes him feel weepy now
Even to have thought of it — though it’s not wrong
To want to rise at five and write a song.
Page(s) 24
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