Patrick Kavanagh

Threshing Morning (2)

And I thought of the wasp's nest in the bank
And how we got chased one day,
Leaving the drag and the scraw-kinfe behind,
How we covered our faces with hay.

From the Railway Works at Dundalk
I could hear the buzzer blow,
Then the slow hum of the threshing drum
Till someone shouted "Woa!"

I'll be carrying sacks to day, I thought,
The best job at the mill!
With plenty of help and romantic talk
As we wait for the sacks to fill.

Maybe Kitty will be there… I dreamed.
And then I came to the haggard gate
But I knew as I entered that I had come
Through fields that were part of no earthly estate

This poem (or fragment) follows a blank, numbered page in the notebook.
Marked: ’34 Unpub’.

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