This poem is taken from PN Review 95, Volume 20 Number 3, January - February 1994.
Three PoemsTo My Husband, with the Gift of a Shirt
The two boys from the shop
would stream past on their bikes.
I was small enough to stare
unashamed, behind the fence;
old enough to know the blond
would romp it home in most
love races, but I desired
the dark boy, to have or be;
because he wore a crimson
piratical shirt, in days
when grown-up men were khaki
and grey and brown and navy.
Who sets the clock of love?
The child in the eye does that.
While your hair is mainly black,
I'll give you a red shirt.
Easter Saturday
...
The page you have requested is restricted to subscribers only. Please enter your username and password and click on 'Continue'.
If you have forgotten your username and password, please enter the email address you used when you joined. Your login details will then be emailed to the address specified.
If you are not a subscriber and would like to enjoy the 286 issues containing over 11,500 poems, articles, reports, interviews and reviews, why not subscribe to the website today?
If you have forgotten your username and password, please enter the email address you used when you joined. Your login details will then be emailed to the address specified.
If you are not a subscriber and would like to enjoy the 286 issues containing over 11,500 poems, articles, reports, interviews and reviews, why not subscribe to the website today?