What did you make of it
When you sat at your elm table alone
Staring at the blank sheet of paper,
Silent at your typewriter, listening
To the leaking thatch drip, the murmur of rain,
And staring at the sunken church, and the black
Slate roofs in the mist of rain, low tide,
Gleaming awash.
Ted Hughes, in "Error", Birthday Letters, Farrar, Straus and Giroux, 1998.
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