This poem is taken from PN Review 50, Volume 12 Number 6, July - August 1986.
Rites of PassageComfortable words, framed
in darker times than ours,
are ruined archways,
rusted gates, lych gate
or kissing gate, beaten paths
to love or death
that dwindle out of use.
As our forefathers knew,
their ways are grass
- a by-way their sense of
comfortable, a castle stump
in the marches
that marks where a language
lost its fight. The formless
is given ground.
A name thumbed off the map
...
The page you have requested is restricted to subscribers only. Please enter your username and password and click on 'Continue'.
If you have forgotten your username and password, please enter the email address you used when you joined. Your login details will then be emailed to the address specified.
If you are not a subscriber and would like to enjoy the 288 issues containing over 11,600 poems, articles, reports, interviews and reviews, why not subscribe to the website today?
If you have forgotten your username and password, please enter the email address you used when you joined. Your login details will then be emailed to the address specified.
If you are not a subscriber and would like to enjoy the 288 issues containing over 11,600 poems, articles, reports, interviews and reviews, why not subscribe to the website today?
