SECRET

What they meant by this we could not understand,
Nor did we dare to ask. Perhaps it had something
To do with roads lines of trees fences; bribery maybe,

The regular companion of tyranny; or barbed wire
Running innocently across the top of a wall
Like a tiny lizard at this distance. On the other hand,

You may have taken it from TV, that mystical
Chemist’s shop, or standing at the winter window
On the second storey from where we the witless

Might have descried the dark corner of conspiracy.
Seen against lines of snow the afternoon bridge,
Black by twenty to four in the afternoon billows

Over the dark river. Fences. The low-lying contralto
Voice of the fifties.This smashing invisibility.