<?xml version="1.0" encoding="utf-8"?>
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  <node>
    <title>Greacen020</title>
    <Collections>Unpublished Poems</Collections>
    <Contributor>Greacen Estate</Contributor>
    <Coverage>19 Jan</Coverage>
    <Creator>Linen Hall Library</Creator>
    <Date>Wednesday, March 16, 2016</Date>
    <Format>TIFF</Format>
    <Identifier>Greacen020</Identifier>
    <ItemDescription>Manuscript</ItemDescription>
    <Keywords>The blind month</Keywords>
    <Language>English</Language>
    <Path>https://www.niliteraryarchive.com/content/greacen020</Path>
    <Publisher>Linen Hall Library</Publisher>
    <Relation>Linen Hall Library</Relation>
    <Rights>Attribution-NonCommercial-ShareAlike CC BY-NC-SA</Rights>
    <Scannedimage>https://www.niliteraryarchive.com/sites/default/files/Greacen020_0.jpg</Scannedimage>
    <Source>LHL Archive</Source>
    <Transcript>﻿The Blind MOnth

November fills bridges, streets and even country lanes
With yellow vapours, blows on the tired heart
A chill reminder of the year’s decay,
shunts fog into the throat, fog into the mind,
Blankets desire, outlaws blood&#039;s summer riot.
Now the October rust-red and charred-brown days recede
Into the calendar, traceless though kind-scented,
All fullness frosted, all richness raided.
November, month of the dead, month of shadows,
Month of the year&#039;s betrayal, our invocation
Is a hoarse mouthing to the misty gods
For a single sign, for one grey dove on attic roof,
For affirmation of light in this blind month.
</Transcript>
    <Type>Text</Type>
  </node>
</>
