CRICKET: THE CATCH
Reading edition
Whizzing, fierce, it came Down the summer air, Burning like a flame On my fingers bare, And it brought to me As swift—a memory. Happy days long dead Clear I saw once more. Childhood that is fled:— Rossall on the shore, Where the sea sobs wild Like a homesick child. Oh, the blue bird’s fled! Never man can follow. Yet at times instead Comes this scarlet swallow, Bearing on its wings (Where it skims and dips, Gleaming through the slips) Sweet Time-strangled things.