Summer 2005 • Vol. XXVII No. 3 PoetryJuly 1, 2005 |

Summer Recessional

From the last carriage, I watch England go by. Good-bye, summer, we must go. Good-bye to that field of barley stubble we just passed, a blur of worthless gold, and to that orchard aglow with apples. Look, the first one has fallen, globe gone sour. Good-bye, shrunken empire whose sun has set. Now only the worm of the codling moth will hatch in the starchy chambers of your decay. Let it devour whatever sweetness is left. O empty station, where the train no longer stops! Had I blinked, I would have missed you. I'll miss you, too. Tell me, what are you waiting for? There is no room in your churchyards for another grave. O Britannia! Someone's red coat flutters on the edge of a flag-shaped field scraped down to the dirt.

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DEBORA GREGER’s most recent book of poetry is Western Art, published by Penguin in fall 2004.

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From the last carriage, I watch England go by. Good-bye, summer, we must go. Good-bye to that field of barley stubble we just passed, a blur of worthless gold, and […]

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