Another one from Edward Thomas because I’m still in essay mood and I wouldn’t even know about him if he I hadn’t gone back to college. Also, he writes about places I know personally and I find that fascinating.
Not that I know this village particularly, but you know what I mean.
Adlestrop by Edward Thomas
Yes. I remember Adlestrop—
The name, because one afternoon
Of heat the express-train drew up there
Unwontedly. It was late June.
The steam hissed. Someone cleared his throat.
No one left and no one came
On the bare platform. What I saw
Was Adlestrop—only the name
And willows, willow-herb, and grass,
And meadowsweet, and haycocks dry,
No whit less still and lonely fair
Than the high cloudlets in the sky.
And for that minute a blackbird sang
Close by, and round him, mistier,
Farther and farther, all the birds
Of Oxfordshire and Gloucestershire.
while you're ahead... 
I love that poem as a poem about nothing happening!
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