19 NOVEMBER 1988, Page 34

Dissolution

The vast ruined nave is famous for its blackberries.

Here the abbot was put to the sword: a stone Hidden among brambles marks the spot. A ghost's batteries Run down just like our own batteries. This one Has turned up much too often to be visible, Yet someone blackberrying alone might feel skin prickle And head back for the car, believing it's just That the children will be wondering about tea.

And so, ungathered, lovely ripe berries gather dust All night — that outdoor dust we never see Dulling a surface as we see indoors, more widely travelled Than dust in a room, and not so easily controlled.

Robert Saxton