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<div style="background:#fff;border:#bbb dashed 1px;padding:5px"><a href="http://www.citatepedia.com/comments.php?id=365860" style="color:#000;text-decoration:none"><div style="margin:10px 0"><strong>Static</strong></div><div style="margin:10px 0"><a href="http://www.citatepedia.com/comments.php?id=365860" style="color:#000;text-decoration:none">Stark patterns rent by winter storms<br>Sweep the blood-red sky, <br>By haunted mills and frozen rills<br>The static crackles by; <br>But not a stone stands on a stone<br>To halt its whispered sigh.</a></div><div style="margin:10px 0"><a href="http://www.citatepedia.com/comments.php?id=365860" style="color:#000;text-decoration:none">Through twisted steel and molten glass<br>The signal spends its force<br>Then mutters on through blackened wheat, <br>Bent on its wayward course; <br>But none may hear the crackling tear<br>That shimmers through the gorse.</a></div><div style="margin:10px 0"><a href="http://www.citatepedia.com/comments.php?id=365860" style="color:#000;text-decoration:none">Twice round the earth the signal runs<br>To seek that whip of steel, <br>The midnight radio of man<br>Has ceased to hear or feel, <br>And silence reigns, where once had seen<br>The skirling of the reel.</a></div><div style="margin:10px 0"><a href="http://www.citatepedia.com/comments.php?id=365860" style="color:#000;text-decoration:none">In some deep water-filling ditch<br>Lost in a ravaged land, <br>The signal finds a radio<br>Clutched in a dead man’s hand; <br>And crackles static through its leads: <br>‘I have returned, for man! ’</a></div><div style="margin:10px 0"><a href="http://www.citatepedia.com/comments.php?id=365860" style="color:#000;text-decoration:none">9 July 1978</a></div><div style="margin:10px 0"><br /></a><a href="http://poems.citatepedia.com/">poem</a> by <strong><a rel="author" href="http://authors.citatepedia.com/by.php?a=David+Lewis+Paget">David Lewis Paget</a></strong></div>