Thursday, 19 April 2018

BOG COTTON (Michael Longley) · Lyrikline.org

BOG COTTON (Michael Longley) · Lyrikline.org

BOG COTTON
MICHAEL LONGLEY
01:45
Let me make room for bog cotton, a desert flower -
Keith Douglas, I nearly repeat what you were saying
 
When you apostrophised the poppies of Flanders
 
And the death of poetry there: that was in Egypt
 
Among the sandy soldiers of another war.

(It hangs on by a thread, denser than thistledown,
 
Reluctant to fly, a weather vane that traces
 
The flow of cloud shadow over monotonous bog -
And useless too, though it might well bring to mind
 
The plumpness of pillows, the staunching of wounds,

Rags torn from a petticoat and soaked in water
 
And tied to the bushes around some holy well
 
As though to make a hospital of the landscape -
Cures and medicines as far as the horizon
 
Which nobody harvests except with the eye.)

You saw that beyond the thirstier desert flowers
 
There fell hundreds of thousands of poppy petals
 
Magnified to blood stains by the middle distance
 
Or through the still unfocused sights of a rifle —
 
And Isaac Rosenberg wore one behind his ear.

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