PN Review Print and Online Poetry Magazine
Most Read... Rebecca WattsThe Cult of the Noble Amateur
(PN Review 239)
Mark FordLetters And So It Goes
Letters from Young Mr Grace
(aka John Ashbery)

(PN Review 239)
Kei Millerthe Fat Black Woman
In Praise of the Fat Black Woman & Volume

(PN Review 241)
Henry Kingon Toby Martinez de las Rivas
(PN Review 244)
Eavan BolandA Lyric Voice at Bay
(PN Review 121)
Vahni CapildeoOn Judging Prizes, & Reading More than Six Really Good Books
(PN Review 237)
Next Issue Jen Schmitt on Ekphrasis Rachel Hadas on Text and Pandemic Kirsty Gunn Essaying two Jee Leong Koh Palinodes in the Voice of my Dead Father Maureen Mclane Correspondent Breeze
Poems Articles Interviews Reports Reviews Contributors
PNR 250 Poetry Archive Banner
Monthly Carcanet Books
PN Review Blog

This poem is taken from PN Review 112, Volume 23 Number 2, November - December 1996.

Two Poems Peter Bland


Wintering - Putney 1996

They browse in cold clusters, geese and swans
mouthing through fog
for what the tide brings in. Lean
pickings in winter with the tourists gone
and even the locals, walking wet dogs,
not stopping to throw them crusts. I've
stood here twenty years on and off
wondering whether to call it 'home'
because I sense that this river-mist
has soaked into more than thin skin. There's
a late love too for midnight walks
along frosty towpaths under cold white moons
with foxes barking by the garbage bins
and barn owls wintering in the tourist boats.
...


Searching, please wait... animated waiting image