i.m. Jenny Diski, 1947–2016

Pale duty stamps about in plenty of nothing
        like the night when you know everything to time
when each step is beaten off when the rack might add
        more glory and I would watch the stars
not kin nor proof to rule the sphere to know
        by clothes and tea how to cut lino out of them

Now see who has the little boat of love and wave
        adrift more salt at its best splash scornful enough
away on your right to curve well in some hope then
        plunging like blame, my hat tossed up and bent
and lost wires lurid if there ever was one at hand
        to walk with me out of my mind’s eye always apt

Old china caught to seize as springless nature seeps up
        and wells at stake to risk another fire
in a forest of beasts where silent stories end in a beer
...