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.