And the day subsides to me and my revolving thoughts, the sun sufficient unto itself throws gorgeous heat at us from a pale sky - I am under an umbrella, retreated from the fight. Birds all around keep me company with their bright chat and the swifts scream past overhead. The world of work a million light years off: all that needless battle, useless, and thrusting knives. I have done with it and all the sour with their power play. I cut my lawns today.next poem