Peter Redgrove
At the University
The piano, on which you touch
the cold treble:
the tender and virgin seal
Pervades the house.
I meet the vice-chancellor
in his robes,
I am in my old blue
dressing gown;
both costumes
Are loose and open;
much kissing
as counter-octopus
To virginal influences.
Such contaminations
come from love,
University love.
The ruins are haunted
by a reasonable voice
Like a cat's and by the smells
of the mud-pits, the virtual garden
where I have seen
Each thing in its own dawn shadow.
Morning has the air
of a dream until
About 5.30. Therefore the yogis
and the monks
begin their days
In the smaller hours than this.
4 Feb 2001 |
