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This poem is taken from PN Review 9, Volume 6 Number 1, September - October 1979.

Four Poems John Finlay

In translucent night, rising from the sea,
The coastal mountains ended in the moon.
Up to their heights, cultivated groves
Held them in place. Under reflecting leaves,
The turning undersides of thin pale fish,
The massive olive trunks were rooted deep.
Miles down, in isolated clefts of rock,
As in a well, black water sucked the base.

AT CLAYBANK

Your parents lie buried
Under emblems of waves.
Cold surges of granite
Secure the ancient graves.

After pain and blindness,
With clouds closing in,
Summer lightning and rain,
...


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