PN Review Print and Online Poetry Magazine
Most Read... Rebecca WattsThe Cult of the Noble Amateur
(PN Review 239)
Mark FordLetters And So It Goes
Letters from Young Mr Grace
(aka John Ashbery)

(PN Review 239)
Kei Millerthe Fat Black Woman
In Praise of the Fat Black Woman & Volume

(PN Review 241)
Henry Kingon Toby Martinez de las Rivas
(PN Review 244)
Eavan BolandA Lyric Voice at Bay
(PN Review 121)
Vahni CapildeoOn Judging Prizes, & Reading More than Six Really Good Books
(PN Review 237)
Next Issue John McAuliffe poems and conversation Charles Dobzynski translated by Marilyn Hacker Maya C. Popa in conversation with Caroline Bird Richard Gwyn With Lowry in Cuernavaca Jane Draycott Four Poems
Poems Articles Interviews Reports Reviews Contributors
PNR 250 Poetry Archive Banner
Monthly Carcanet Books
PN Review Blog

This poem is taken from PN Review 240, Volume 44 Number 4, March - April 2018.

Grave Goods Patricia Postgate
You may keep my best bow,
And my drinking cup;
My chequer board, my flower-coronet
And my little cosmetic jars.
They will be no use to me at all.

You must put in the grave with me
These three things.
A small pot of seed-corn;
The long time coming will ask a lot
And not give much.
No concessions are made in the struggle for being,
And strength must be drawn from where it may.
Put with me a silver piece, or a copper or two.
Life does not come free, and creation must be paid for.
There is no knowing what the cost will be,
But cost there will be in sending the cell, the atom,
On their transient and perilous journeys.

A handful of soft wool there must be.
A bonus perhaps, when sustenance is only a precaution
...


Searching, please wait... animated waiting image