Saturday, November 16, 2013

Alice Oswald

Time Poem by Alice Oswald

now the sound of the trees is

and I'm still here
staring when I should be bathing

it's late, the bike's asleep on its feet.

the fields hang to the sun by
slackened lines...
when the grass breathes, things fall.
I saw
the luminous underneath of a moth.
and a blackbird
mouth to the glow of the hour in

who left the light on the step?

what is the pace of a glance?

the man at the wheel signs his speed
on the ringroad

right here in my reach, time is as
thick as stone
and as thin as a flying strand

it's night and somebody's
pushing his mower home
to the moon

No comments: