23 NOVEMBER 1962, Page 55


The quiet fruit dilating At the speed of a season and Heavy berry Lade the tended branch. The hand waiting and The sun's downpour. Its bath of light Sweetens the liquor in The rich of the fruit : Rain delayed in the wood.

Be sure let it be The pruner's weathering hand Severs the stalk; And his mouth take the rind. No other.

Woman at work in the house, With no one to talk to.