Most Read... John McAuliffeBill Manhire in Conversation with John McAuliffe
(PN Review 259)
Patricia CraigVal Warner: A Reminiscence
(PN Review 259)
Eavan BolandA Lyric Voice at Bay
(PN Review 121)
Joshua WeinerAn Exchange with Daniel Tiffany/Fall 2020
(PN Review 259)
Vahni CapildeoOn Judging Prizes, & Reading More than Six Really Good Books
(PN Review 237)
Christopher MiddletonNotes on a Viking Prow
(PN Review 10)
Poems Articles Interviews Reports Reviews Contributors
Reader Survey
PN Review Substack

This poem is taken from PN Review 50, Volume 12 Number 6, July - August 1986.

Poems James Keery

THE WATER STATION

I watched them gracefully go their separate ways.
The moon had risen, like a map,
Its quiet seas the colour of the sky,
And straggles of red campion
Decreed, whatever happened in the south,
The hawthorn should protect its awkwardness
With emerald.
A wood pigeon deserted, terrified.
It should have kept its nerve, nevertheless.

WINTER VISITORS

There were goldeneye, a drake with swollen cheeks,
And the trim dark form of a duck, like the one you saw,
Jump-diving gracefully, for long enough
To hinder relocation. From the hide
I watched the drake being mobbed by herring gulls,
And then take flight across to the long spit
...


Searching, please wait... animated waiting image