Poems

U. Calderone: ‘As Night Comes On’

As Night Comes On

“Christ that my love were in my arms
And I in my bed again”.
Like a rebellious chant or defiant psalm
The words splinter the air as in a fall of crystal rain,
Words flung out in warring, forgotten, far-off days,
Yet how like frost they cut to the bone.
Who was that person fretting for love’s sweet phase,
Was he in a city street or a country lane alone?
He could be on a wide, estranged sea that seems
To be forever becalmed. Without seeing his lover’s face,
Mere wealth or jittery fame mean nought, he dreams
Only of his love with her insuperable grace.
Is he seeking a lift on a foreign highway,
As night comes on, and compounds
The sadness of the day?

U. Calderone

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