Thomas Hardy Poem by Norman Dubie

The first morning after anyone's death, is it important
To know that fields are wet, that the governess is
Naked but with a scarf still covering her head, that
She's sitting on a gardener who's wearing
Just a blue shirt, or that he's sitting on a chair in the kitchen.
They look like they are rowing while instead outside in the mist
Two boats are passing on the river, the gardener's mouth
Is opening:

A white, screaming bird lifts off the river into the trees,
Flies a short distance and is joined
By a second bird, but then as if to destroy everything
The two white birds are met by a third. The night
Always fails. The cows are now standing in the barns.
You can hear the milk as it drills into wooden pails.