can we start with a bang! and work
backwards as reluctant piglets scrummaged
at the funeral ; he'll have everyone laughing
left wanting more, alas, the fact is we're packed
in, fat and gristly people, rare breeds and bristly noble hogs
quaffing affable clammy clear broths from
horn rimmed cups — chestnuts! we cried
let there be chestnuts! — but what
we dug was truffles! Heatedly we became
a scene for a time, a frieze framed in glasses til
we buried our snouts in decline and
snorted more laughter than was good
for us— suddenly sober, we sobbed
merriment forgotten — we'll miss him!
.
btw
27 April 2024
the lime kiln, Knole, Somerset, UK
.
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