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The Explosion

On the day of the

Shadows pointed towards the pithead:

In thesun the slagheap slept.

Down the lane came men in

Coughing oath-edged talk and

Shouldering off the freshened silence.

One chased after rabbits; lost them;

Came back with a nest of lark's eggs;

Showed them; lodged them in the grasses.

So they passed in beards and

Fathers brothers nicknames

Through the tall gates standing open.

At noon there came a tremor;

Stopped chewing for a second;

Scarfed as in a heat-haze dimmed.

The dead go on before us

Are sitting in God's house in

We shall see them face to face—plian as lettering in the

It was said and for a

Wives saw men of the

Larger than in life they managed—Gold as on a coin or

Somehow from the sun towards

One showing the eggs unbroken.

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Philip Larkin

Philip Arthur Larkin (9 August 1922 – 2 December 1985) was an English poet, novelist, and librarian. His first book of poetry, The North Ship, w…

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