15 may. 2003

This is what I mean by skilful use of line-breaks in free verse


There is this to be said
for Sunday morning: that if
I have been very bad the night
before and wake up feeling

like a drab on a sunny day,
Dick will pop into my room
and invite me out to the
high abandoned airfield.

There, the sun will seem
properly chilly and the wind
will not compromise us
with any silly sentiment.

I will walk about on the
heaving grass rather shakily
and observe the model airplanes
lofted by dry blue currents.

As Dick like a discus hurler
throws his weight into the sky
I begin to feel engaged and
follow the glider straining

its little spirit into swoops
that clumsily break and bounce
to earth with a grunt. Then
he must pick up its wings

and go home, to make repairs,
to putty its nose and straighten
its tail, to talk about winds
and temperature and balance,

to think about theories of
flight, and shave, perhaps. So
all through dinner our clear
anxious eyes remains aloft.


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