PICKINGS

Poetry from NHI publications

THE WALL
We came to It first that Day, the Way led to Its close Where trees Sought out Their silent Repose en- closed as a Circular Tract — we Didn't turn Back this time, It wasn't Late, the Leaves just Right, after A thought we Took to the Left, a Wood of tur ning trees Freed us From restraint 'til we Stood out- side that Accustomed Place, wit- nessed the Sun steel- bright from Where we'd Come, and then That wall Came to sight, Not to be Measured As width or Height, but Simply so, As remote from Us as summer Snow, where We could go No further.
DAVID JAFFIN

THE WALL

We came to
It first that
Day, the

Way led to
Its close
Where trees

Sought out
Their silent
Repose en-

closed as a
Circular
Tract — we

Didn't turn
Back this time,
It wasn't

Late, the
Leaves just
Right, after

A thought we
Took to the
Left, a

Wood of tur
ning trees
Freed us

From restraint
'til we
Stood out-

side that
Accustomed
Place, wit-

nessed the
Sun steel-
bright from

Where we'd
Come, and then
That wall

Came to sight,
Not to be
Measured

As width or
Height, but
Simply so,

As remote from
Us as summer
Snow, where

We could go
No further.

DAVID JAFFIN

from
Headland #4

Next poem
Previous poem

Pickings
NHI home page
Books
Magazines

Web design by Gerald England
This page last updated: 24th November 2005.