Monday, February 2, 2015

Poetry in life



An excerpt from Patricia Beer's 'Ballad of the Underpass'



An underpass. The tunnelled road
Is short, the village is so slight.
Today I drove right underneath
The tombstones in the fading light.

‘Now I have really GONE ABOVE,'
My mother said, 'though not to Heaven,
Nearer the light, nearer the air.
Set free by half the worms of Devon

My bones hang over you and twitch
Under the rain. Tall as a tree
You used to stand there looking down
And now you must look up at me.'

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