This poem is taken from PN Review 36, Volume 10 Number 4, March - April 1984.

Baucis and Philemon

Dick Davis
Life lies to hand in hoe, spade, pruning-knife,
Plain wooden furniture and wattle walls,
In those unspoken words 'my husband' 'wife',
In one another's flesh which still recalls.

Beneath the map of age their savoured youth.
It is an ambience in which they move
Having no need to grasp or grub for truth,
It is the still persistence of their love.
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