A Poem by Debora Greger

“Theory of the leisure class”

Gold leaf, ground sapphire:

in the English book of hours,

the longest day of the year turns a page

in the season of spending

no sumptuary law can curb—

but today’s meditation has been interrupted

by a panicked feathery clatter:

a wood pigeon, ungainly in rosy waistcoat,

distracted on the way to Ascot

by an ornamental cherry at my window.

Continue reading at The New Criterion

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