The Mower by Philip Larkin
The first day after a death, the new absence is always the same.
The Mower
The mower stalled, twice; kneeling, I found a hedgehog jammed up against the blades, killed. It had been in the long grass. I had seen it before, and even fed it, once. Now I had mauled its unobtrusive world unmendably. Burial was no help: Next morning I got up and it did not. The first day after a death, the new absence is always the same; we should be careful of each other, we should be kind while there is still time.
Humberside (The Hull Literary Club, 1979)
Tender, delicate, careful, often cynical, usually under-valued Philip L:arkin!--how good to see this poem here! Anybody else would have made a sentimental hash of this disturbing incident. Whatever his subject, Larkin always quietly enlarges it!
quiet, understated, unforgettable. I’m gonna be a kinder person today than I would have before reading this poem. I might just read it every day.