Most Read... Rebecca WattsThe Cult of the Noble Amateur
(PN Review 239)
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)
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
Reader Survey
PN Review Substack

This poem is taken from PN Review 8, Volume 5 Number 4, July - September 1979.

Old School Tie Neil Powell

Crumpled at the back of the bottom drawer:
"Sevenoaks School Lists, 1964".
And here they are, lined up, like guests invited
To a formal function, and my name included
Among the strangers. I can't put a face
To any of them. "Hardly knew the place",
I try to kid myself in disbelief:
But seven years, a quarter of my life,
Must have left some residue . . .
                              And yes,
Something is shaping from the emptiness:
Detached but clear, an accent or a voice,
A sharp eye's glance, a wry smile, a grimace.
In detail, though I cannot see them whole,
These faces are familiar after all.
Now, as the looks and gestures come together,
I find the strangers find they know each other,

Searching, please wait... animated waiting image