Have stepped from last year as from an enclosure.
Five or six men stand gazing at a rusty tractor
Before carrying implements to separate fields.
I am travelling from one April to another.
It is the same train between the same embankments.
Gorse fires are smoking, but pimroses burn
And celandines and white may and gorse flowers.
Michael Longley, Gorse Fires, Cape Poetry, 2009.