Velocy Meadows by Mark Strand

Velocity Meadows I can say now that nothing was possible But leaving the house and standing in front of it, staring As long as I could into the valley. I knew that a train, Trailing a scarf of smoke, would arrive, that soon it would rain. A frieze of clouds lowered a shadow over the town, And a driving wind flattened the meadows that swept Beyond the olive trees and banks of hollyhock and rose. The air smelled sweet, and a girl was waving a stick At some crows so far away they seemed like flies. Her mother, wearing a cape and shawl, shielded her eyes. I wondered from what, since there was no sun. Then someone Appeared and said, "Look at those clouds forming a wall, those crows Falling out of the sky, those fields, pale green, green-yellow, Rolling away, and that girl and her mother, waving goodbye." In a moment the sky was stained with a reddish haze, And the person beside me was running away. It was dusk, The lights of the town were coming on, and I saw, dimly at first, Close to the graveyard bound by rows of cypress bending down, The girl and her mother, next to each other, Smoking, grinding their heels into the ground.