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)
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)
M. Wynn ThomasThe Other Side of the Hedge
(PN Review 239)
Next Issue Beverley Bie Brahic, after Leopardi's 'Broom' Michael Freeman Benefytes and Consolacyons Miles Burrows At Madame Zaza’s and other poems Victoria Kenefick Hunger Strike Hilary Davies Haunted by Christ
Poems Articles Interviews Reports Reviews Contributors
PNR 250 Poetry Archive Banner
Monthly Carcanet Books
PN Review Blog

This poem is taken from PN Review 170, Volume 32 Number 6, July - August 2006.

Five Poems Peter Sansom

Crich Stand

A tiny light in all that sea, gone five seconds
and twenty seven years. One hot July
past chucking-out, we stepped not very drunk
from the Duke of Sussex, six of us, and saw
the landlocked lighthouse. Twenty miles. And set off
there and then to walk all night the White Peak
ups and downs of chevronned lanes; the sky
so very close, so many stars and wishes,
names of constellations over charcoal wheat,
and fingerposts, galleon trees, unseen cattle
lumbering, then a fox that looked through us
and strolled on. In time we stopped, six of us,
somewhere in Derbyshire, where the tower swung
exploding eye-to-eye across the drystone fields.
At seventeen, who needs Dr Freud to say

Searching, please wait... animated waiting image