Tuesday, January 29, 2008

All Days Lost Days

by carol ann duffy



All Days Lost Days

Living
in and out of the past,
inexplicably
so many things have died
in me.

In and out like a tide,
each tear
holds a tiny hologram.
Even this early
I am full of years.

Here are the little gravestones
where memory
stands in the wild grass,
watching the future
arrive in a line of big black cars.

All days
lost days, in and out of themselves
between dreaming
and dreaming again and half-
remembering


carol ann duffy, new selected poems 1984-2004, Picador 2004

2 Comments:

Blogger Echo said...

This is me in the desperation of holding on to the past as though it is actually who I am now.

Thanks for your kind comment on my blog.

6:32 PM  
Blogger Echo said...

This is me in the desperation of holding on to the past as though it is actually who I am now.

Thanks for your kind comment on my blog.

6:32 PM  

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