Monday, March 02, 2009

Moles on a Barbed-Wire Fence, Near Cowgill, Yorkshire Dales

3 comments:

  1. And many other beasts
    And birds, skin, bone and feather,
    Have been taken from their feasts
    And hung up there together,
    To swing and have endless leisure
    In the sun and in the snow,
    Without pain, without pleasure,
    On the dead oak tree bough.

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  2. 'Does a mole ever get hit by a shell?'

    Or a shovel, perhaps.

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  3. I saw them, I saw them,
    Hanging on the old barbed wire.

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