Rags of Light

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The Mower

This poem has come to my mind several times in the past few days.

The Mower
by Philip Larkin

The mower stalled, twice; kneeling, I found
A hedgehog jammed up against the blades,
Killed. It had been in the long grass.

I had seen it before, and even fed it, once.
Now I had mauled its unobtrusive world
Unmendably. Burial was no help:

Next morning I got up and it did not. The first day after a death, the new absence
Is always the same; we should be careful

Of each other, we should be kind
While there is still time.

Source: Collected Poems (Farrar Straus and Giroux, 2001)