Smeuse, that low-run gap
where the wild things are,
under Sussex-set hedges,
but now a reduced tag,
worn out, as are the places
without any lasting labels;
things will no longer exist:
my kids already fail to name
occasional birds or trees,
and without nature’s
passed down placeholders
a creation disappears,
until we chance to recapture
the nameless creatures,
and pass the landscape on,
with their ancient titles
and collected echoes
of common-place parlance:
We may lose them all,
no word for sparrow?
Then no sparrows are left.

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