As on the highway's quiet edge <br />He mows the grass beside the hedge, <br />The old man has for company <br />The distant, grey, salt-smelling sea, <br />A poppied field, a cow and calf, <br />The finches on the telegraph. <br />Across his faded back a hone, <br />He slowly, slowly scythes alone <br />In silence of the wind-soft air, <br />With ladies' bedstraw everywhere, <br />With whitened corn, and tarry poles, <br />And far-off gulls like risen souls.<br /><br />Frances Darwin Cornford<br /><br />http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/the-coast-norfolk/
