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Reading a Letter
Reading a Letter, by D.H. Lawrence

SHE sits on the recreation ground 
  Under an oak whose yellow buds dot the pale blue sky. 
The young grass twinkles in the wind, and the sound 
  Of the wind in the knotted buds in a canopy. 
So sitting under the knotted canopy         5
  Of the wind, she is lifted and carried away as in a balloon 
Across the insensible void, till she stoops to see 
  The sandy desert beneath her, the dreary platoon. 
She knows the waste all dry beneath her, in one place 
  Stirring with earth-coloured life, ever turning and stirring.  10
But never the motion has a human face 
  Nor sound, save intermittent machinery whirring. 
And so again, on the recreation ground 
  She alights a stranger, wondering, unused to the scene; 
Suffering at sight of the children playing around,  15
  Hurt at the chalk-coloured tulips, and the evening-green. 

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