Mother,Summer,I.....

Mother,Summer,I.....

Postby Jann » Wed Aug 12, 2009 8:35 pm

Mother, Summer, I
Philip Larkin

My mother, who hates thunder storms,
Holds up each summer day and shakes
It out suspiciously, lest swarms
Of grape-dark clouds are lurking there;
But when the August weather breaks
And rains begin, and brittle frost
Sharpens the bird-abandoned air,
Her worried summer look is lost,

And I her son, though summer-born
And summer-loving, none the less
Am easier when the leaves are gone
Too often summer days appear
Emblems of perfect happiness
I can't confront: I must await
A time less bold, less rich, less clear:
An autumn more appropriate.
Jann
 
Posts: 914
Joined: Mon Jan 21, 2008 11:55 am

Return to Poetry

Who is online

Users browsing this forum: No registered users and 6 guests

cron