Spread on the roadway,
With open-blown jackets,
Like black, soaring pinions,
They swoop down the hillside,
The Cyclists.
Seeming dark-plumaged
Birds, after carrion,
Careening and circling,
Over the dying
Of England.
She lies with her bosom
Beneath them, no longer
The Dominant Mother,
The Virile — but rotting
Before time.
The smell of her, tainted,
Has bitten their nostrils.
Exultant they hover,
And shadow the sun with
Foreboding.
(Amy Lowell)
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Based on Topics: Time Poems, Death & Dying Poems, Birds Poems, Mothers Poems, England PoemsBased on Keywords: foreboding, bitten, tainted, virile, exultant, jackets, swoop, dominant, carrion, roadway, careening