This ladder creaks. Take that ring off
I bought for you in Gdansk,
first token of my growing love,
with the 40-million-year-old fly
embalmed in its amber,
resin oozed before Man,
not to bruise the apples I drop
for you to catch from the Bramley
I planted after that Polish trip.

Send Letters To:

The Editor
London Review of Books,
28 Little Russell Street
London, WC1A 2HN

Please include name, address, and a telephone number.

Read anywhere with the London Review of Books app, available now from the App Store for Apple devices, Google Play for Android devices and Amazon for your Kindle Fire.

Sign up to our newsletter

For highlights from the latest issue, our archive and the blog, as well as news, events and exclusive promotions.

Newsletter Preferences