Cut Grass
Cut grass lies frail:
Brief is the breath
Mown stalks exhale.
Long, long the death
It dies in the white hours
Of young-leafed June
With chestnut flowers,
With hedges snowlike strewn,
White lilac bowed,
Lost lanes of Queen Anne's lace,
And that high-builded cloud
Moving at summer's pace.
-- Philip Larkin (via) - hear him read it here
"Captures the transient beauty of a June day with a wistful perfection" says the Journal of Experimental Botany (from which the photo comes).
The website of the Philip Larkin Society says: "This is sometimes thought as in some ways a companion piece to ‘The Trees’, and another tying Larkin elegiacally to an England somewhere in the middle of the last century. But ‘The Trees’ is a discussion and a reflection on mortality, the possibility for change, the impermanence of life, and the possibility of renewal, another use of the image of a tree as a life force (as in ‘Love Songs in Age’). A bundle of tightly compressed metaphors. ‘Cut Grass’, on the other hand is almost pure imagery. The poet is completely invisible. ... The observational detail is total, unmodulated, unrefracted by any thought of the writer."
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