You tourist composed upon that fence to watch the quaint farmer at his quaint task come closer, bring your camera here or fasten your telescopic lens if you're too indolent; all I ask is that when you go home you take a close-up among your color slides of vacationland, to show we pay the price for hay, this actual panic: no politic fear but tumbling wild waves down the windrows, tides of crickets, grasshoppers, meadow mice, and half-feathered sparrows, whipped by a bleeding snake. Used with the permission of Copper Canyon Press, P.O. Box 271, Port Townsend, WA 98368-0271, www.cc.press.org | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...LETTER TO JOSEPH WARREN by ROBERT FROST THE UNCERTAINTY PRINCIPLE by JAMES GALVIN PICKING AND CHOOSING by MARIANNE MOORE THE LITTLE BLACK BOY, FR. SONGS OF INNOCENCE by WILLIAM BLAKE THERE IS NO NATURAL RELIGION (A) by WILLIAM BLAKE |