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When you see this post a poem in your livejournal

Sounds of the Day

When a clatter came,
It was horses crossing the ford.
When the air creaked, it was a lapwing seeing us off the premises
Of its private marsh. A snuffling puff
Ten yards from the boat was the tide blocking
Unblocking a hole in a rock.
When the black drums rolled, it was water
Falling sixty feet into itself

When the door
Scraped shut, it was the end
Of all the sounds there are.

You left me
Beside the quietest fire in the world.

And I though I was hurt in my pride only,
Forgetting that,
When you plunge your hand into freezing water,
You feel
A bangle of ice around your wrist
Before the whole hand goes numb.

- Norman MacCaig

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lesbiassparrow

August 2011

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