Green-shadowed people sit, or walk in rings,
Their children finger the awakened grass,
Calmly a cloud stands, calmly a bird sings,
And, flashing like a dangled-looking glass,
Sun lights the balls that bounce, the dogs that bark,
The branch-arrested mist of leaf, and me,
Threading my pursed-up way across the park,
An indigestible sterility.
 
Spring, of all seasons most gratuitous,
Is fold of untaught flower, is race of water
Is earth’s most multiple, excited daughter;
 
And those she has least use for see her best,
Their paths grown craven and circuitous,
Their visions mountain-clear, their needs immodest.

  • 0
  • 1
  •  
  •  
Login to comment...

Liked or faved by...

myl26
Email

Other works by Philip Larkin...

Some poets who follow Philip Larkin...

Bob Baxley saba saba C. Knappe Georgia Geary laura bloomsbury Robert Thomas Halliwell