This poem is taken from PN Review 87, Volume 19 Number 1, September - October 1992.
THIS STATION IN THE WOODS, HOW WAS IT BUILT?THIS STATION IN THE WOODS, HOW WAS IT BUILT?
The oak, that has to flourish to exist,
That has to stand and change like traffic lights,
Is coolly disregarded by the reeds
For whom twilight is mirrored more than shadowed;
Autumn in the water, not the leaves;
Dreams not always rigorously curtailed.
OUT OF MAY'S SHOWS SELECTED
A cold dust underfoot, where the track was muddy,
The trees that were dark green, almost to black.
LATE OCTOBER
The mists have cleared, leaving a sense of height
Among the trees that are still shapely with leaves.
...
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 284 issues containing over 11,400 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 284 issues containing over 11,400 poems, articles, reports, interviews and reviews, why not subscribe to the website today?
