The Crushing
from in time of ‘the Breaking of Nations’ by Thomas Hardy
Only a horse, grazing,
Uncommon on common land,
A man in uniform, lazing
Half asleep astride, hat in hand.
Only a mounted policeman at ease
Amidst the dogwalkers.
And his is how it is, and was
While almost all else havers.
In the distance a podcast whines
Of war and yet more war
But still the river winds
Lighting flickers on a rower’s oar
Justine Hardy