Marianne Boruch, In the Blue Pharmacy, reprints and discusses this poem by Denise Levertov from Relearning the Alphabet]
An Embroidery (IV) Swiss Cheese
(after a lost poem, 1947)
Lost wooden poem,
cows and people wending
to wooden homesteads
cows first, the families
following calmly their swaying,
their pausing, their moving ahead in dreamy
Children asleep in the arms of old men,
healthy pallor of smooth cheeks facing
back to high pastures left for the day,
are borne down as the light
waits to leave.
Upper air glows with motes color of hay,
deep valley darkens.
Lost poem, I know
the cows were fragrant
and sounds were of hooves and feet on earth,
of clumps of good grass torn off, to chew
slowly; and not much talk.
They were returning
to wooden buckets, to lantern-beams
crisp as new straw.
Swiss cheese with black bread,
meadow, wood walls, what
did I do with you, I'm looking
through holes, in cheese, or
pine knotholes, and
who were those peaceful folk, the poem
was twenty years ago, I need it now.