This poem is taken from PN Review 36, Volume 10 Number 4, March - April 1984.
Wind and Absence
Down wind, down wind, a soft sweep of hours
Trawling in time. My pulse races into darkness.
Adrift, I draw your absence close about me;
Take the small ghosts of your hands to mine.
Your voice, your smile: such son et lumière.
My nerves conduct you round my floodlit bones.
Certain salt-water fools pester my eyes:
I stub them out with rough, dumb fingers.
...
Trawling in time. My pulse races into darkness.
Adrift, I draw your absence close about me;
Take the small ghosts of your hands to mine.
Your voice, your smile: such son et lumière.
My nerves conduct you round my floodlit bones.
Certain salt-water fools pester my eyes:
I stub them out with rough, dumb fingers.
...
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