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Niagara on the Lake, Ontario, Canada
My virtue is that I say what I think, my vice that what I think doesn't amount to much.

Tuesday, June 14, 2016

The Mower by Philip Larkin

The Mower
The mower stalled, twice; kneeling, I found 
A hedgehog jammed up against the blades, 
Killed. It had been in the long grass. 

I had seen it before, and even fed it, once. 
Now I had mauled its unobtrusive world

Unmendably. Burial was no help:

Next morning I got up and it did not.

The first day after a death, the new absence

Is always the same; we should be careful

Of each other, we should be kind

While there is still time.

Poem: "The Mower" by Philip Larkin, from Collected Poems. Farrar, Straus, Giroux


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