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LUI ET ELLE
She is large and matronly
And rather dirty,
A little sardonic-looking, as if domesticity had
driven her to it.
Though what she does, except lay four eggs at
random in the garden once a year
And put up with her husband,
I don't know.
She likes to eat.
She hurries up, striding reared on long uncanny
legs,
When food is going.
Oh yes, she can make haste when she likes.
She snaps the soft bread from my hand in great
mouthfuls,
Opening her rather pretty wedge of an iron,
pristine face
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