This poem is taken from PN Review 10, Volume 6 Number 2, November - December 1979.
PoemThese last three cloudy afternoons
I've walked along the top edge of the wood,
Along the bottom of it, and up through it:
Bluebells, wood anemones, wild cherry -
All identified with the help of each one
I walked with, three days and three pairs of eyes
Beside my own, each a frequent expert visitor
To that half mile or so of ordinary woodland slope.
...
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