General   (General discussion, talk about anything.)

IN THE HARDY MIST


I hear the thrush as you did-
at the turn of the last century.
It was the one before the last,

when you leant on that darkling gate.
If I could wait, another hundred years,
that song would still give me hope-

like it did for you alone,
as the winter sun was dying and you made your way home.


Jarvo, 31st December 2020

For Thomas Hardy.