Adlestrop - Edward Thomas

Edward Thomas (1878-1917)

Adlestrop

Yes, I remember Adlestrop --

The name, because one afternoon

Of heat the express-train drew up there

Unwontedly. It was late June.

The steam hissed. Someone cleared his throat.

No one left and no one came

On the bare platform. What I saw

Was Adlestrop -- only the name

And willows, willow-herb, and grass,

And meadowsweet, and haycocks dry,

No whit less still and lonely fair

Than the high cloudlets in the sky.

And for that minute a blackbird sang

Close by, and round him, mistier,

Farther and farther, all the birds

Of Oxfordshire and Gloucestershire.

I love Edward Thomas's poems. Returning one day from a far-away place, I drove past the turning to Adlestrop. I had a long way to go. It was getting late. I often wish I'd stopped and explored . . .