Two Poems
Peter Porter, 9 July 1987
And now the track is snowed with words, The poor train of childhood followed, A good aunt picking out the thirds On an old piano, gutted, hollowed By years which left the trees the same Adding one storey to the house In others’ hands – and can you claim That here sex showed you her old powers?
The little ghosts which charmingly In gentle masochism shone Grew up and...