Three Poems

Light Tasks

I arrived in bits,
furious at Copenhagen.
The swans were stretching their necks and biting.
The donkeys stumbled badly on the descent.

How nice your compliments sounded -
it was as if the lights in the priory hall
had been turned on all at once.
The cabbage was marvellous.
Oh! If only I were dressed better!

You seemed a little wanton.
Thistledown, someone said.
And all were weeping, men with white beards.
The dog had perhaps been noble and faithful.

The weather was very mild and still,
as at the opera.
...