This Morning For A Moment The Dog Caught A Hare.

A kestrel which swept low over the field,
a red gold brown in brilliant winter sun,
alarmed a hare which startled 

then revealed itself, 

not camouflaged against the dun and lumpy plough,

as it had been before, among the grasses at the fields edge.

In panic it ran back along the wire,
to where the irrigation drain with sedge grown close

prevented its escape.

And there the dog, just for a moment, stood,
and pinioned him, and I stood by agape,
until my sense returned, 

so that I could shout a loud and Sergeant Majorish command
and watch the hare fly up and over land.