I, too, have trailed my father's spirit From the mud-walled cabin behind the mountain Where he was born and bred, TB and scarletina, The farm where he was first hired out, To Wigan, to Crewe junction, A building-site from which he disappeared And took passage, almost, for Argentina. The mountain is coming down with hazel, The building-site a slum, While he has gone no further than Brazil. That's him on the verandah, drinking rum With a man who might be a Nazi, His children asleep under their mosquito-nets. | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...HUGH SELWYN MAUBERLEY: 7. 'SIENA MI FE' by EZRA POUND MORNING MIST by MABEL WARREN ARNOLD CHARACTERS: MR. AND MRS. EDWARDS by ANNA LETITIA BARBAULD NIGHT by AUGUSTA COOPER BRISTOL CAELIA: SONNETS: 1 by WILLIAM BROWNE (1591-1643) VERAZZANO AT RHODES AND RHODE ISLAND by HEZEKIAH BUTTERWORTH ON THE MEANING OF ST. PAUL'S EXPRESSION OF SPEAKING WITH TONGUES by JOHN BYROM |