One More Winter's Day


There, the view from this train
As she, I, together
Riverside walked
Where now the flooding-water floods
The leafless hedge-lined
In the distance
Hills above Malvern keep memories
As the mist of this day keeps such summits
Hidden from my view:

Such loss of such a simple love
As I, stupidly striving, ensnared with ideals
Forgot, misplacing such sharing
As Sun shares with rain
To bring forth such Life as gifts
But I-the-selfish wandered so often
That century alone
Until years later we who were married parted then
To leave me as I was left too late
To know as I now know
Such love as kept her, hoping.
But she is gone, as Sun behind the dismal cloud of Winter:
Thus am I unhappy,
Unkempt by memories.


A journey - broken -
And I am somewhat if only slightly
Where some Inn funnels music loudly
And people, living,
One chance, taken,
To make us settle in some corner.

Her hair, greying, dangles down
The facade of her face,
But there is hope, there, fading
And life, beauty, living, which one gentle touch
To leave one impression
While the wine, the music, the surrounding laughter
Carrying us out where sodium light streaks
Mist and our breath makes clouds
Until a Taxi claims
One hand slipping underneath
Her dress.

Here, a room, clean, where clothes rest washed
If undesired:
One pillow upon one bed
Beneath a Book of Dreams
While the city rises as it rises
To lose itself in mizzle.
Thus there is sleep, after passion, interest, brief life - flickering -
Become spent
Before an early train to claim
And I am briefly happy, as she,
Through Living Life, in moments.

DW Myatt