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’
Now
they
have
all
gone
,
’
said
Louis
.
I
am
alone
.
They
have
gone
into
the
house
for
breakfast
,
and
I
am
left
standing
by
the
wall
among
the
flowers
.
It
is
very
early
,
before
lessons
.
Flower
after
flower
is
specked
on
the
depths
of
green
.
The
petals
are
harlequins
.
Stalks
rise
from
the
black
hollows
beneath
.
The
flowers
swim
like
fish
made
of
light
upon
the
dark
,
green
waters
.
I
hold
a
stalk
in
my
hand
.
I
am
the
stalk
.
My
roots
go
down
to
the
depths
of
the
world
,
through
earth
dry
with
brick
,
and
damp
earth
,
through
veins
of
lead
and
silver
.
I
am
all
fibre
.
All
tremors
shake
me
,
and
the
weight
of
the
earth
is
pressed
to
my
ribs
.
Up
here
my
eyes
are
green
leaves
,
unseeing
.
I
am
a
boy
in
grey
flannels
with
a
belt
fastened
by
a
brass
snake
up
here
.
Down
there
my
eyes
are
the
lidless
eyes
of
a
stone
figure
in
a
desert
by
the
Nile
.
I
see
women
passing
with
red
pitchers
to
the
river
;
I
see
camels
swaying
and
men
in
turbans
.
I
hear
tramplings
,
tremblings
,
stirrings
round
me
.
'
Up
here
Bernard
,
Neville
,
Jinny
and
Susan
(
but
not
Rhoda
)
skim
the
flower-beds
with
their
nets
.
They
skim
the
butterflies
from
the
nodding
tops
of
the
flowers
.
They
brush
the
surface
of
the
world
.
Their
nets
are
full
of
fluttering
wings
.
"
Louis
!
Louis
!
Louis
!
"
they
shout
.
But
they
can
not
see
me
.
I
am
on
the
other
side
of
the
hedge
.
There
are
only
little
eye-holes
among
the
leaves
.
Oh
Lord
,
let
them
pass
.
Lord
,
let
them
lay
their
butterflies
on
a
pocket-handkerchief
on
the
gravel
.
Let
them
count
out
their
tortoise-shells
,
their
red
admirals
and
cabbage
whites
.
But
let
me
be
unseen
.
I
am
green
as
a
yew
tree
in
the
shade
of
the
hedge
.
My
hair
is
made
of
leaves
.
I
am
rooted
to
the
middle
of
the
earth
.
My
body
is
a
stalk
.
I
press
the
stalk
.
A
drop
oozes
from
the
hole
at
the
mouth
and
slowly
,
thickly
,
grows
larger
and
larger
.
Now
something
pink
passes
the
eyehole
.
Now
an
eye-beam
is
slid
through
the
chink
.
Its
beam
strikes
me
.
I
am
a
boy
in
a
grey
flannel
suit
.
She
has
found
me
.
I
am
struck
on
the
nape
of
the
neck
.
She
has
kissed
me
.
All
is
shattered
.
'
'
I
was
running
,
'
said
Jinny
,
'
after
breakfast
.
I
saw
leaves
moving
in
a
hole
in
the
hedge
.
I
thought
"
That
is
a
bird
on
its
nest
.
"
I
parted
them
and
looked
;
but
there
was
no
bird
on
a
nest
.
The
leaves
went
on
moving
.
I
was
frightened
.
I
ran
past
Susan
,
past
Rhoda
,
and
Neville
and
Bernard
in
the
tool-house
talking
.
I
cried
as
I
ran
,
faster
and
faster
.
What
moved
the
leaves
?
What
moves
my
heart
,
my
legs
?
And
I
dashed
in
here
,
seeing
you
green
as
a
bush
,
like
a
branch
,
very
still
,
Louis
,
with
your
eyes
fixed
.
"
Is
he
dead
?
"
I
thought
,
and
kissed
you
,
with
my
heart
jumping
under
my
pink
frock
like
the
leaves
,
which
go
on
moving
,
though
there
is
nothing
to
move
them
.
Now
I
smell
geraniums
;
I
smell
earth
mould
.
I
dance
.
I
ripple
.
I
am
thrown
over
you
like
a
net
of
light
.
I
lie
quivering
flung
over
you
.
'
'
Through
the
chink
in
the
hedge
,
'
said
Susan
,
'
I
saw
her
kiss
him
.
I
raised
my
head
from
my
flower-pot
and
looked
through
a
chink
in
the
hedge
.
I
saw
her
kiss
him
.
I
saw
them
,
Jinny
and
Louis
,
kissing
.
Now
I
will
wrap
my
agony
inside
my
pocket-handkerchief
.
It
shall
be
screwed
tight
into
a
ball
.
I
will
go
to
the
beech
wood
alone
,
before
lessons
.
I
will
not
sit
at
a
table
,
doing
sums
.
I
will
not
sit
next
Jinny
and
next
Louis
.
I
will
take
my
anguish
and
lay
it
upon
the
roots
under
the
beech
trees
.
I
will
examine
it
and
take
it
between
my
fingers
.
They
will
not
find
me
.
I
shall
eat
nuts
and
peer
for
eggs
through
the
brambles
and
my
hair
will
be
matted
and
I
shall
sleep
under
hedges
and
drink
water
from
ditches
and
die
there
.
'
'S
usan
has
passed
us
,
'
said
Bernard
.
'S
he
has
passed
the
tool-house
door
with
her
handkerchief
screwed
into
a
ball
.
She
was
not
crying
,
but
her
eyes
,
which
are
so
beautiful
,
were
narrow
as
cats
'
eyes
before
they
spring
.
I
shall
follow
her
,
Neville
.
I
shall
go
gently
behind
her
,
to
be
at
hand
,
with
my
curiosity
,
to
comfort
her
when
she
bursts
out
in
a
rage
and
thinks
,
"
I
am
alone
.
"
'N
ow
she
walks
across
the
field
with
a
swing
,
nonchalantly
,
to
deceive
us
.
Then
she
comes
to
the
dip
;
she
thinks
she
is
unseen
;
she
begins
to
run
with
her
fists
clenched
in
front
of
her
.
Her
nails
meet
in
the
ball
of
her
pocket-handkerchief
.
She
is
making
for
the
beech
woods
out
of
the
light
.
She
spreads
her
arms
as
she
comes
to
them
and
takes
to
the
shade
like
a
swimmer
.
But
she
is
blind
after
the
light
and
trips
and
flings
herself
down
on
the
roots
under
the
trees
,
where
the
light
seems
to
pant
in
and
out
,
in
and
out
.
The
branches
heave
up
and
down
.
There
is
agitation
and
trouble
here
.
There
is
gloom
.
The
light
is
fitful
.
There
is
anguish
here
.
The
roots
make
a
skeleton
on
the
ground
,
with
dead
leaves
heaped
in
the
angles
.
Susan
has
spread
her
anguish
out
.
Her
pocket-handkerchief
is
laid
on
the
roots
of
the
beech
trees
and
she
sobs
,
sitting
crumpled
where
she
has
fallen
.
'
'
I
saw
her
kiss
him
,
'
said
Susan
.
'
I
looked
between
the
leaves
and
saw
her
.
She
danced
in
flecked
with
diamonds
light
as
dust
.
And
I
am
squat
,
Bernard
,
I
am
short
.
I
have
eyes
that
look
close
to
the
ground
and
see
insects
in
the
grass
.
The
yellow
warmth
in
my
side
turned
to
stone
when
I
saw
Jinny
kiss
Louis
.
I
shall
eat
grass
and
die
in
a
ditch
in
the
brown
water
where
dead
leaves
have
rotted
.
'
