Most Read... Rebecca WattsThe Cult of the Noble Amateur
(PN Review 239)
John McAuliffeBill Manhire in Conversation with John McAuliffe
(PN Review 259)
Eavan BolandA Lyric Voice at Bay
(PN Review 121)
Patricia CraigVal Warner: A Reminiscence
(PN Review 259)
Vahni CapildeoOn Judging Prizes, & Reading More than Six Really Good Books
(PN Review 237)
Tim Parksin conversation with Natalia Ginzburg
(PN Review 49)
Next Issue Gwyneth Lewis ‘Spiderings’ Ian Thomson ‘Fires were started: Tallinn, 1944’ Adrian May ‘Traditionalism and Tradition’ Judith Herzberg ‘Poems’ translated by Margitt Helbert Horatio Morpurgo ‘What is a Book?’
Poems Articles Interviews Reports Reviews Contributors
PN Review 276
PN Review Substack

This poem is taken from PN Review 107, Volume 22 Number 3, January - February 1996.

Five Poems Jay Parini

Good Friday in Amalfi
The terrace is a tier of flame tonight,
a lavish send-off to the day,

the red sea curling in the stony cove,
the town lights flickering, a mass of candles

on the dusky shore. Goodbye, I wave,
as long-limbed vines begin to chitter

and the rose-thorns dig, their chafers buzzing.
Arum lilies blow their hornlike buds.

Behind my house, the bare-faced cliff
maintains a solitary crooked grin

as if it knows what I have done
or left undone, my desultory sins.

But now it's over, I pretend, near dark,
lifting my arms in racy wind -

white winds that fit me like a loose soutane.
...


Searching, please wait... animated waiting image