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 155, Volume 30 Number 3, January - February 2004.

The Middleton Poems Gillian Clarke

The Ice-House

The door leads into the hill
to a bat hibernaculum,
house of wintering shadows

folded and packed as tight as ice,
till warmth thaws them, sends them skittering
into a summer dusk.

Paxton's ice-house, not Frigidaire,
not our immaculate tabernacles
of white enamel stowed with cold.

We sip, watching the evening bats,
the tinkle in a glass reminding water
of the earth it came from.


Ice Harvest

With block and tackle, grappling iron, axe,
they'd lift the lid off the lake. In a rare year
an acre could yield a thousand tons.
...


Searching, please wait... animated waiting image