And suddenly it’s evening
Each of us alone on the heart of the earth
pierced by a ray of sun:
and suddenly it’s evening.
Salvatore Quasimodo
(Chosen by Chris Yates: This may seem grim to a pessimist, but it just makes me want to dive even deeper into the life I love.)
A High Garden
The noise rose
from the garden locked
between a hillside field,
a row of small houses,
and the dusty red
tarmac of the tennis court
A jay and parakeets bright
against the winter duns
and black rooks
In a canvas chair
I could have slept for hours
or just sat and stared
into the vanishing sky
Black-headed gulls
took off from the field
and I turned to watch
their wheeling pattern that
left the field as bleak as bone
Will Burns.
Chosen by John Andrews.