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 186, Volume 35 Number 4, March - April 2009.

Three Poems Roger Waterfield

Moment

I dreamed you were wearing white underclothes,
rather oldfashioned, lightly starched, heartbreaking.
You were sitting or lying on your bed, which stood
in a pleasant grassy space by a wooden gate,
which a lamb was trying to wriggle under. I said
I wanted us to be friends. Good friends. And lovers.
Lovers? you asked. Now? And you took off
your oldfashioned, lightly starched, heartbreaking underwear.
I took off whatever I was wearing, and held you,
and you pulled away and said, No, no. With a gulp.
No? I asked. No. We’ve tried it before.
And shall we not again then? And the hope
was too slender and sharp to wait for an answer.



Laudator temporis acti

When I was young I knitted
...


Searching, please wait... animated waiting image