How they can ruin a day, the funeral cars proceeding
over the edge of the Common, while fat black crows
leer and jeer in gangs. A parliament all right.
Suddenly the hour is less pleasant than it first appeared
to take a walk and post a harmless, optimistic letter.
Face up to it. It is far too hot for November
and far too late for more than the corpse stopped
at a red light near the Post Office, where you pause
wishing you could make some kind of gesture
like the old woman who crosses herself as the hearse moves on.
Carol Ann Duffy/ The Other Country