Poem by Philip Arthur Larkin

Cut Grass

Cut grass lies frail:
Brief is the breath
Mown stalks exhale.
Long, long the death

It dies in the white hours
Of young-leafed June
With chestnut flowers,
With hedges snowlike strewn,

White lilac bowed,
Lost lanes of Queen Anne's lace,
And that high-builded cloud
Moving at summer's pace.

1. Annus Mirabilis
2. Love Songs in Age
3. Coming
4. The Explosion
5. Lines on a Young Lady's Photograph Album

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