PN Review Print and Online Poetry Magazine
News and Notes
Digital Access to PN Review
Access the latest issues, plus back issues of PN Review with Exact Editions For PN Review subscribers: to access the PN Review digital archive via the Exact Editions app Exactly or the Exact Editions website, you will first need to know your PN Review ID number. read more
PN Review Prize winners announced
Carcanet Press and PN Review are delighted to announce the winners of the first ever PN Review Prize. read more
Most Read... Vahni CapildeoOn Judging Prizes, & Reading More than Six Really Good Books
(PN Review 237)
Drew MilneTom Raworth’s Writing
‘present past improved’: Tom Raworth’s Writing

(PN Review 236)
Alejandro Fernandez-OsorioPomace (trans. James Womack)
(PN Review 236)
Eavan BolandA Lyric Voice at Bay
(PN Review 121)
Kei MillerIn the Shadow of Derek Walcott
1930–2017

(PN Review 235)
Rebecca WattsThe Cult of the Noble Amateur
(PN Review 239)
Poems Articles Interviews Reports Reviews Contributors
Gratis Ad 1
Gratis Ad 2
Next Issue Peter Scupham at 85: a celebration Contributions by Anne Stevenson, Robert Wells, Peter Davidson, Lawrence Sail

This report is taken from PN Review 154, Volume 30 Number 2, November - December 2003.

From a Journal R.F. Langley


August 1982
How easy, in the electric light inside the cottage, with the windows so small, to forget the distance to the next house. Actually no other buildings are visible from this one, and fields separate us from the one or two that are possibly somewhere near. Some shock in stepping outside the door, into the size of it. And surprise because - there is no wind at all. Clear blue night, some stars, a burst of crows cawing and moving out off the mountain, a bat or two, high or low, and an owl, very loud and close. Hard silhouette of the mountain. Small flies tickle. A drop falls in the water butt, which is now full. Small, pink clouds have left the sky to roll in the lap of Cader Idris. Stillness gets inside the holly. Here we are under the open Milky Way, under Vega, with the complete show, the Plough and Cassiopeia resting on the rim of our bowl, and one of the Perseids whipping silently to extinction towards the south east.

Pure postcard on Tuesday. Puffs of cloud overland, and thin cirrus over the sea. Hot enough in the wind to redden us all on Harlech beach. Into the dunes there, barefoot and careful for glass and harsh marram. A sudden glaucous blue patch, like litter, but it is cool sea-holly, tough and heavy. Rest harrow everywhere. Carline thistles, intricate, with glossy white-gold rays. Hollows floored with creeping willow, with ...


Searching, please wait... animated waiting image