'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
Post a Comment