Tattered pennants, ancient flags,
fine ladies' work and beggars' rags.
Dry twigs that scrape you in the dark.
Hearts and initials on the bark.
Memories of future time,
a half-caught scrap of starboard rhyme,
a hag, a clone, a pail of air,
a tuft of theropodan hair.
The matter of Britain, the streets of Earth,
the sorrow of war, the solace of mirth -
Walk through the coppice and find all these
but you won't find