Light spreads darkly downwards from the high
Clusters of lights over empty chairs
That face each other, coloured differently.
Through open doors, the dining-room declares
A larger loneliness of knives and glass
And silence laid like carpet. A porter reads
An unsold evening paper. Hours pass,
And all the salesmen have gone back to Leeds,
Leaving full ashtrays in the Conference Room.
In shoeless corridors, the lights burn. How
Isolated, like a fort, it is –
The headed paper, made for writing home
(If home existed) letters of exile: Now
Night comes on. Waves fold behind villages.
End of the poem
15 random poems
- Interior Design Institutes in Dehradun
- A Knocker poem – Zbigniew Herbert poems | Poetry Monster
- Epitaph On the Lady Mary Villiers by Thomas Carew
- Алексей Толстой – С тех пор как я один
- Аля Кудряшева – Слишком уж зол ветер
- Robert Burns: Tam O’ Shanter: A Tale
- Numb by Stephenie Tucker
- To Ailsa Rock poem – John Keats poems
- Covering Two Years by Weldon Kees
- My Father’s Hats by Mark Irwin
- Олег Бундур – Праздник встречи
- I Write a Poem by Aiyah De Torres
- boy_running_in_the_rain.html
- the_dormouse_and_the_doctor.html
- Василий Тредиаковский – Песенка любовна
Some external links:
Duckduckgo.com – the alternative in the US
Quant.com – a search engine from France, and also an alternative, at least for Europe
Yandex – the Russian search engine (it’s probably the best search engine for image searches).
Philip Arthur Larkin (1922-1985), Commander of the Order of the British Empire, a Fellow of the Royal Society of Literature, Cavalier of the Order of the Companions of Honour, was an English poet, novelist, and librarian.