Groping back to bed after a pissI part thick curtains, and am startled byThe rapid clouds, the moon’s cleanliness. Four o’clock: wedge-shadowed gardens lieUnder a cavernous, a wind-picked sky.There’s something laughable about this, The way the moon dashes through clouds that blowLoosely as cannon-smoke to stand apart(Stone-coloured light sharpening the roofs below) High and preposterous […]

P. Larkin’s Moon: “Sad Steps”