'Sad Steps' by Philip Larkin

 Sad Steps

 

Groping back to bed after a piss

I part thick curtains, and am startled by

The rapid clouds, the moon’s cleanliness.

 

Four O’clock: wedge-shadowed gardens lie

Under a cavernous, a wind-picked sky.

There’s something laughable about this,

 

The way the moon dashes through 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.

Philip Larkin

Comments

Popular posts from this blog

Moon poems

An essay on the development of Christian Doctrine by John Henry Cardinal Newman

Doctor Pusey heard the call