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Fossils
And then she saw me creeping,
Saw and stood
Transfixed upon the fringes of the wood,
And straight went leaping.
Headlong down the pitch
Of the curved hill,
Over the ditch
And through the skirt of bushes by the rill
She pelted screaming,
Swerved from the water sideways with a twist
Just as I clutched and missed.
Flashed white beneath my hand and doubled back,
Swift as a twisting hare upon her track,
Hot for the hill again,
But all in vain.
Her hair swung far behind,