This poem is taken from PN Review 207, Volume 39 Number 1, September - October 2012.
Nine Poems
Freehold
He dodges huge mercies;
believes he hears them pad
and snuffle in his tracks.
He gives thanks for small mercies,
revering their light formality,
sensing his unplumbed modesty.
His indoor woolly hat
is untroubled by sweat or snow
and free of twigs and leaves.
Friend and servant join
hands in his walking stick,
his sceptre, caduceus, staff.
He nods at the tight smile
of double-bolted doors
and sets the alarm for Doomsday.
...
He dodges huge mercies;
believes he hears them pad
and snuffle in his tracks.
He gives thanks for small mercies,
revering their light formality,
sensing his unplumbed modesty.
His indoor woolly hat
is untroubled by sweat or snow
and free of twigs and leaves.
Friend and servant join
hands in his walking stick,
his sceptre, caduceus, staff.
He nods at the tight smile
of double-bolted doors
and sets the alarm for Doomsday.
...
The page you have requested is restricted to subscribers only. Please enter your username and password and click on 'Continue'.
If you have forgotten your username and password, please enter the email address you used when you joined. Your login details will then be emailed to the address specified.
If you are not a subscriber and would like to enjoy the 287 issues containing over 11,500 poems, articles, reports, interviews and reviews, why not subscribe to the website today?
If you have forgotten your username and password, please enter the email address you used when you joined. Your login details will then be emailed to the address specified.
If you are not a subscriber and would like to enjoy the 287 issues containing over 11,500 poems, articles, reports, interviews and reviews, why not subscribe to the website today?
