Groping back to bed after a piss
I part the thick curtains, and am startled by
The rapid clouds, the moon’s cleanliness.
Four o’clock: wedge-shaped gardens lie
Under a cavernous, a wind-pierced sky.
There’s something laughable about this,
The way the moon dashes through the clouds that blow
Loosely as cannon-smoke to stand apart
(Stone-coloured light sharpening the roofs below)
High and preposterous and separate–
Lozenge of love! Medallion of art!
O wolves of memory! Immensements! No,
One shivers slightly, looking up there.
The hardness and the brightness and the plain
far-reaching singleness of that wide stare
Is a reminder of the strength and pain
Of being young; that it can’t come again,
But is for others undiminished somewhere.
Jack
i find this so poignant and reminiscent of your earlier work, tracks like rhododendron.something romantic, like Keats
nicky
My favourite poet! So glad you like him, too!
Nicole
Taking literature as a cue: what has happened to your short stories? Will you publish them?
Nicole
beautiful poem
K
Did we do phillip larkin at a level English?