“Love” Poems For Kathy Number Twenty-Three


Let the night be late

for the robins sing

and will not sing

when the dark weight

of evening closes everything.

It is almost dusk

and the shadows are

shades now travelling

England’s everywhere and, as it is

usual to mention a star

hanging in heaven,

to have come this far

and not mention one

seems a ridiculous

and unnecessary twist.

When the sun

that had sung from the hawthorn-branches

fell, rung by rung,

and the crocuses moistened

and Putney seemed almost a dell

where the blossoming flowers

welled up out of the earth (though we know

they cannot do that), I thought of you

and thought that perhaps

like me you listened

and hoped for night to come late,

for the robins are singing

but will not sing

when the world grows up

around every ri-baldish thing.

(from “”Love” Poems For Kathy / Green. Laced. Leaves”)

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Written by Jonathan Finch