Spring 1956 • Vol. XVIII No. 2 PoetryApril 1, 1956 |

From a Provincial

Bent postcards come from Interlaken In August, the tired emperor of the year; On evening tables Midges survey their planes of brief discovery At a half-run. In Milton's candle's light They so employed themselves. Some die before the light is out. Between darkness and darkness Every small valley shows a familiar compass Until like all before Still most unknown, it vanishes. In Cæsar's camp was order, The locus of their lives for some centurions Encircled by forests of sombre France. When day and life draw the horizons Part of the strangeness is Knowing the landscape.

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